OccAsioNAl PApERS/ REpRiNTS SERiES iN CoNTEMpoRARY AsiAN STudiEs

NUMBER 2 - 1990 (97)

TIANANMEN: 'S STRUGGLE FOR , , •• ITS PRELUDE, DEVELOPMENT, AFTERMATH, AND IMPACT Edited by Winston L. Y. and Marsha L. Wagner

Scltool of UNivERsiTy of 0 MARylANd. c ' 0 Occasional Papers/Reprint Series in Contemporary Asian Studies

General Editor: Hungdah Chiu Executive Editor: Chih-Yu Wu Managing Editor: Chih-Yu Wu Editorial Advisory Board Professor Robert A. Scalapino, University of California at Berkeley Professor Gaston J. Sigur, University Professor Shao-chuan Leng, University of Virginia Professor James Hsiung, Dr. Lih-, Political Science Association of the Republic of China Professor J. S. Prybyla, The Pennsylvania State University Professor Toshio Sawada, Sophia University, Professor Gottfried-Karl Kindermann, Center for International Politics, University of Munich, Federal Republic of Professor Choon-ho Park, International Legal Studies, University, Republic of Korea All contributions (in English only) and communications should be sent to Professor Hungdah Chiu, University of Maryland School of Law, 500 West Baltimore Street, Baltimore, Maryland 21201 USA. All publications in this series reflect only the views of the authors. While the editor accepts responsibility for the selection of materials to be published, the individual author is responsible for statements of facts and expressions of opinion con­ tained therein. Subscription is US $18.00 for 6 issues (regardless of the price of individual issues) in the and $24.00 for or overseas. Check should be addressed to OPRSCAS. Price for single copy of this issue: US $8.00. ISSN 0730-0107 ISBN 0-925153-07-9 (paperback) (Hardcover edition published in Maryland Studies in East Asian Law and Politics Series, No. 11. ISBN 0-925153-08-7; $14.00) © Occasional Papers/Reprints Series in Contemporary Asian Studies : CHINA'S STRUGGLE FOR DEMOCRACY ITS PRELUDE, DEVELOPMENT, AFTERMATH, AND IMPACf

Edited with an Introduction by Winston L. Y. Yang and MarshaL. Wagner with Contributions by

Hungdah Chiu Sandra Burton Nicholas D. Kristof John Fincher Marsha L. Wagner Stanley Rosen David Aikman Russell Watson Chu- Cheng Winston L. Y. Yang

Contemporary Asian Studies Series School of Law University of Maryland Baltimore, Maryland 1990 DEDICATED TO THE MEMORY OF THOSE WHO GAVE THEIR LIVES FOR DEMOCRACY IN THE DAYS OF TIANANMEN. TIANANMEN: CHINA'S STRUGGLE FOR DEMOCRACY ITS PRELUDE, DEVELOPMENT, AFTERMATH, AND IMPACT

Edited by Winston L. Y. Yang and MarshaL. Wagner

TABLE OF CONTENTS Page Dedication ...... 1 Map of China ...... iv Map of ...... v Map of Tiananmen and Vicinity ...... v1 Preface ...... vii Introduction ...... 1 Winston L.Y. Yang, Seton Hall University 1. The Case of , the Pioneer of the Democracy Movement...... 7 Hungdah Chiu, University of Maryland 2. and His Act of Defiance ...... 23 Orville Schell 3. Prelude to Tiananmen-The Reasons Why China Erupts...... 33 Nicholas D. Kristof, New York Times 4. The Strategies of the Student Democracy Movement in BetJmg...... 43 MarshaL. Wagner, 5. The Battle of Beijing ...... 81 David Aikman, Time 6. Beijing Bloodbath ...... 121 Russell Watson et al, 7. The Crackdown ...... 127 Sandra Burton, Time 8. A Fortnight Later...... 157 Harrison Salisbury, New York Times 9. How the Hardliners Won ...... 171 Nicholas D. Kristof, New York Times 10. The Fall of Ziyang ...... 185 John Fincher, Australian National University/ 11. Youth and Students in China Before and After Tiananmen...... 203 Stanley Rosen, University of Southern California 12. China and America: Beyond the Big Chill...... 229 Winston Lord, Council on Foreign Relations 13. The Impact of Tiananmen on the Chinese Economy . . . . . 253 Chu-yuan Cheng, Ball State University 14. Tiananmen and Its Impact ...... 263 Winston L. Y. Yang, Seton Hall University Notes on the Editors and Contributors ...... 291 Index...... 295 MAP OF CHINA

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PREFACE

In early June, 1989, the of China and its used force to suppress the growing student democracy movement in Beijing. Hundreds of tanks and thousands of troops were deployed on the streets and around the city's central square, Tiananmen. It was the "people's " against the people. When the smoke cleared, hundreds of students and others lay dead. This book, consisting of previously published and unpublished ar­ ticles, offers a comprehensive account of China's recent pro-democ­ racy movement, its prelude, unfolding of events, brutal suppression and aftermath, and analyses of political, economic, and diplomatic set­ backs suffered by China following the massacre. The articles, au­ thored by prominent and eminent scholars, offer not only eyewitness accounts of the events in China in the April-June period of 1989 by the Beijing correspondents of Time, Newsweek, and , but also critical analyses of the democracy movement by China experts. Even though several books on Tiananmen have been published, ours remains the first and only one that provides both eye­ witness accounts and scholarly analyses. A definitive work on the events leading up to the brutal killings in Beijing in early June, 1989, this book offers an insightful look at why it happened, how the world has responded, and what the future holds for China, the world's most populous nation. Obviously, a book of this magnitude could not have been pub­ lished without the assistance and cooperation of many institutions and individuals. We are grateful to all the contributors who either pre­ pared original articles, granted us permission to use their published essays, or revised and updated their previously published articles for this book. Thanks are also due to Time, Newsweek, The New York Times, the University of Maryland, Seton Hall University, and the Council on Foreign Relations for their generous support and coopera­ tion. In particular, we wish to thank Jill F. O'Connell, Judy Pearl­ man, Stephanie A. Terry, Joanne A. Pello, John Brewer, Peter Hutberg, and Tracy Jaros. Thanks are also due to Erik Gartzke, Mar­ garet Chiang, Louisa Perimenis, and Dawn Dall for their efficient typ­ ing, editing, and proofreading. Last but not least, we wish to express our profound gratitude to Professor Hungdah Chiu, without whose assistance this book could not have been prepared or published. The Tiananmen tragedy has changed the . Even (ix) X CoNTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES though the incident is now part of the history of mankind, China's democracy movement is not yet dead; it cannot be suppressed forever. Those who perished during China's struggle for democracy did not die in vain; their efforts have now been carried on by millions of others in China and other parts of the world. The democracy movement is con­ tinuing. To all those who sacrificed their lives for this historic move­ ment, this book is humbly dedicated on the first anniversary of Tiananmen.

Winston L. Y. Yang Marsha L. Wagner June 4, 1990 INTRODUCI'ION

Winston L. Y. Yang

Since the return of Xiaoping to power in 1977 following the death of Zedong in 1976, China has made, despite occasional setbacks, steady in its economic reforms. 1 Although little political liberalization has been achieved, the economic life of the Chi­ nese, especially those in rural areas, has greatly improved. Economic advances, however, have failed to meet the growing demands of Chi­ nese students and intellectuals for political reforms. The Communist Party of China (CPC) and the Communist government of the People's Republic of China (PRC) have adamantly refused to respond to such demands. Thus, an ever-growing democracy movement began to emerge in the mid-1980s and reached its peak in April-June of 1989 following the death of ousted CPC General Secretary Yaobang on April15. Thousands of Chinese college students demonstrated by occupying , a symbol of China's political power, for well over one month to dramatically demonstrate their demands for democracy and freedom. Instead of engaging in a genuine dialogue with the students and instituting fundamental political reforms, the Beijing government imposed on May 20 and used troops and tanks to suppress the movement on June 4. As a result, hundreds of students and others died and thousands were injured. A great historic tragedy had taken place. Following the bloody June 4th Beijing massacre, many countries, including the United States and Japan, adopted economic and diplo­ matic sanctions against China. Almost overnight China suffered un­ precedented diplomatic setbacks. At home, the Communist authorities intensified their suppression of the democracy movement by arresting, sentencing, or executing a very large but unknown number of those involved in the movement. A new leadership headed

l. Numerous studies of China's post- economic reforms have been pub­ lished. Among the earlier books is Doak Barnett and Ralph N. Clough, eds., Modernizing China: Post-Mao Reform and Development, Boulder, Colorado: Westview Press, 1986. More recent books on the subject include Stephen Feuchtwang, ed., Transforming China's Economy in the Eighties, Boulder, Colorado: Westview Press, 1988. 2 vols.; Peter P. Cheng, and in the People's Republic of China, Lanham, Md.: Univ. Press of America, 1989; and David Wen-Wei Chang, China Under , New York: St. Martin's Press, 1988. (1) 2 CoNTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES by replaced the purged leader as CPC Gen­ eral Secretary on June 24.2 China's political, economic and other problems have not been re­ solved, however, by the new leadership and its crackdown policy. A great majority of the have lost confidence in the CPC and the PRC government. Under tight government control and sup­ pression, Chinese students, intellectuals, and others have carried on a passive at home and formed various organiza­ tions, including the Federation for a Democratic China (FDC) with its headquarters in , to continue the pro-democracy movement. The PRC government is obviously confronted with massive problems and difficulties both at home and abroad. China is indeed facing a crisis. The June 4th massacre in Beijing was undoubtedly a great trag­ edy of historic dimensions. Until today, however, many aspects of the massacre remain unknown. While Chinese official announcements and statements that characterize the democracy movement as "tur­ moil" or "counter- rebellion"3 are biased and cannot be relied on, reports and accounts by Western and Chinese correspon­ dents from and are often incomplete, contradic­ tory, and filled with serious gaps. The decision process of the Chinese leadership in dealing with the student democracy movement remains a mystery. 4 Very few in-depth scholarly studies and analyses of the , its prelude and aftermath have been published. It will probably take years for a fully documented picture of the vari­ ous aspects of the Tiananmen tragedy to emerge. The incident is too recent for scholars or historians to view in perspective. In order to help interested readers around the world develop a better understanding of the incident, we have invited several highly experienced correspondents stationed in Beijing in April-June, 1989 to offer first-hand eyewitness accounts and a few prominent China ex­ perts to prepare scholarly, in-depth analyses of the Tiananmen inci­ dent, its prelude, aftermath, and impact. They have either written

2. "Communique of the Fourth Plenary Session of the 13th CPC Central Commit­ tee," Beijing Review, Vol. 32, No. 27 (July 3-9, 1989), pp. 13-14. 3. Ibid., p. 13. 4. Nicholas D. Kristof's article, "China Update: How the Hardliners Won," The New York Times Magazine, Nov. 12, 1989, pp. 39-41, 66-71, explains China's decision pro­ cess with considerable, though not fully documented, detail. Up to the present, Kristof's article remains probably the most thorough source on this subject even though much re­ mains unknown. INTRODUCTION 3

original articles, revised their previously published reports, or gr~ted us permission to reprint their articles that require little or no revtston. It is a well known fact that China's democracy movement began long before the 1989 student demonstrations. In December, 1978, Wei Jingsheng, an electrician at the Beijing , launched an underground publication, Exploration (Tan-shuo), and posted it on Wall, also known as "Democracy Wall," to advocate and funda­ mental political change. Three months later, he was arrested and sen­ tenced to 15 years of imprisonment by a Beijing court for his alleged crimes of providing a foreigner with Chinese military intelligence and carrying out "counterrevolutionary agitation.''5 His pioneer democ­ racy movement was thus brought to an abrupt end. 6 Professor Hungdah Chiu of the University of Maryland provides, in his article, the basic facts of the Wei Jingsheng case and an analysis of the trial and the sentence. The author has reached the conclusion that the Wei case is clearly a political one, in which the substance of the alleged criminal acts and the applicable law cannot meet the minimum stan­ dard of administration of criminal for civilized nations. The purpose of the conviction and sentence by the Beijing authorities was apparently to halt Wei's pioneer pro-democracy movement. After Wei Jingsheng, Fang Lizhi, a noted Chinese scientist, be­ came a leading advocate of democracy and freedom in China in the mid-1980s. Orville Schell's article on Fang is included here to help the reader develop a better understanding of Fang's crusade following the destruction of Wei Jingsheng's democracy campaign. In his "Prelude to the Tiananmen Incident," Nicholas D. Kristof, the New York Times Beijing Bureau Chief, provides an account of the events that led to the 1989 student uprising. He offers a considerable number of reasons why China erupted in mid-1989. It is obvious from Mr. Kristof's account that the Communist Party's power had been eroding long before the 1989 uprising, which marked a turning point in China's post-Mao political developments.

5. See , "Imprisoned Chinese Leader, Wei Jingsheng," The New York Times, October 20, 1979, p. 9. Part of Wei's article, "The Fifth Moderniza­ tion-Democracy and Others," is translated in "China Clamps Down on ," The Asian Journal Weekly, December 3, 1979, p. 10. See also Melinda , "~ei and ," Far Eastern Economic Review, November 2, 1979, pp. 22- 23. 6. The official Chinese view on the Wei case is offered in "Wei Jingsheng Sentenced," Beijing Review, Vol. 22, No. 43 (October 26, 1979), pp. 6-7. A good source 's human violations is Yuan- Wu and others, in the People's Republic of China, Boulder, Colorado: Westview Press, 1988. 4 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

Our knowledge of the strategies of the student democracy move­ ment has been rather limited because they have not been fully studied in the West. Dr. Marsha Wagner of Columbia University, a sinologist researcher living at Beijing University during the uprising who had extensive contact with student activists, provides an in-depth account and analysis of their strategies with an emphasis on the hunger strike. Since there have been many different and often contradictory ac­ counts of the 1989 student movement and its subsequent suppression, three first-hand reports by veteran reporters stationed in Beijing have been selected to provide a more objective, accurate and balanced view. David Aikman, a former chief of Time's Beijing Bureau, offers a full account of the events in Beijing on June 2-4, including details on an hour-to-hour basis on June 3-4. Russell Watson and his Newsweek colleagues in Beijing and Washington offer a survey of the Beijing bloodbath. In addition, Sandra Burton, the present Beijing Bureau Chief of Time, presents a thorough report on the Communist crack­ down. The careful reader may compare these reports and develop a better understanding of the movement and its suppression. Through an astonishing coincidence, Harrison Salisbury, a for­ mer New York Times reporter and editor, spent the first thirteen days of June, 1989 in Beijing and later published his firsthand account of the massacre in a book entitled Tiananmen Diary: Thirteen Days in June (Little, Brown, 1989). An excerpt, written at his Connecticut home a fortnight after his return to the U.S. from China, records his analysis of the Tiananmen events. In his second article, entitled "How the Hardliners Won," the veteran New York Times correspondent, Nicholas D. Kristof, offers a full explanation of and considerable insight into the developments that led to the hardliners' use of force to suppress the student democracy movement. Professor John Fincher of the Australian National Uni­ versity, who is currently a visiting faculty member at Harvard Univer­ sity, views the downfall of Communist Party General Secretary Zhao Ziyang as a great loss to China, and discusses the impact of the of Zhao. Stanley Rosen, an expert on China's 1966-76 Cultural from the University of Southern California, points out that China's youth faced highly indefinite prospects in 1978, relying on the party to expand educational opportunities, provide jobs and integrate them into the still uncertain post- , but by 1989 the expectations of China's young people had risen beyond the abilities--not to mention the inclination-of the CPC to meet them. In the aftermath of June 4, hardline party leaders have reverted to a INTRODUCTION 5

concentration on control, forsaking, at least for now, the erstwhile strategy of reaching out to the young. Winston Lord, former U.S. Ambassador to China, who played an important role in assisting and in their 1972 historic opening of China, discusses, in his lengthy article, the effect of the Chinese crackdown on U.S.-China relations. Looking beyond the 1989 chill in U.S.-China relations, he summarizes impor­ tant criteria to guide United States policy and offers to the Chinese authorities suggestions for advances that might invite positive re­ sponses from the United States. Professor Chu-yuan Cheng of Ball State University, in his analy­ sis of the impact of Tiananmen on the Chinese economy, discusses China's economic conditions prior to Tiananmen and assesses both the short-term and long-term impact of the Tiananmen uprising and its subsequent crackdown. He concludes that if China's contradictory economic program is not untangled, and if the people's incentive and productivity are not revived, stagnation, inflation and shortages will grow worse. As a result, the rising popular discontent may precipitate the downfall of the hardline government. In the last article, Winston L.Y. Yang of Seton Hall University discusses Tiananmen's profound impact on China's reforms, foreign relations, political and economic developments, the Hong Kong ques­ tion, and Beijing- relations. He also describes China's grim prospects in various fields, and points out that a decade of reform in China is now in shambles. Included in this book are several news reports written during the days following the June 4 killings which may contain information based on unconfirmed reports that could not later be verified. How­ ever, even if they are somewhat questionable--especially about the crucial controversy over whether or not there was actual mass killing inside Tiananman Square-they are valuable, first-hand, eye-witness accounts. They are included here because they so vividly record the sensations, the fear and the anger experienced by people on the streets of Beijing that night. Analytic accounts written later question the ini­ tial magnified reports of the casulties, but they lack the immediacy and the drama conveyed in the pieces by David Aikman, Sandra Burton, and others. The fourteen reports and articles included in this book will pro­ vide the reader with comprehensive and balanced accounts and objec­ tive and in-depth analyses of the struggle for democracy centered around Tiananmen, its prelude, aftermath, and impact. The informed 6 CoNTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SE.RIE.S

reader should be able to judge for himself what the future holds for China, the most populous nation in the world. 1. THE CASE OF WEI JINGSHENG, THE PIONEER OF THE DEMOCRACY MOVEMENT

Hungdah Chiu

THE FACTS Wei Jingsheng was a native of Province, in , where he was born in 1950. Both of his parents were party officials, and he was intensively indoctrinated with Communist theories from his childhood on. During the Cultural Revolution, he joined the Guards in 1966, but was jailed for four months early in 1967. With the gradual waning of the Cultural Revolution in 1969, Wei enlisted in the People's Liberation Army, which enabled him to travel widely through China. Demobilized in 1973, he turned down an offer to be­ come an official and took a job as an electrician in the Peking Zoo. 1 In December 1978 Wei began an underground publication called Tanshuo (Exploration) and posted it on Xidan Wall, the now-abol­ ished "Democracy Wall," in Peking. It included an essay bearing his signature and calling on the Communist leaders to add a fifth item to their official list of modernizations the country should achieve in agri­ culture, industry, science, and defense. The fifth and most necessary, he wrote, is democracy. 2 Later Exploration became a mimeographed magazine and pub­ lished many articles exposing the human rights situation in China. For instance, in the March, 1979 issue of Exploration, an article enti­ tled "The Bastille of the Twentieth Century-Qincheng No. 1 Prison"3 vividly described the inhumane treatment and torture of political prisoners in China. On March 29, 1979, Wei was arrested.

THE TRIAL AND THE SENTENCE On October 16, 1979, more than six months after his arrest, Wei

1. See Fox Butterfield, "Imprisoned Chinese Dissident Leader, Wei Jingsheng," The New York Times, October 20, 1979, p. 9. 2. Ibid. Part of Wei's article, "The Fifth Modernization- Democracy and Others," is translated in "China Clamps Down on Dissidents," The Asian Wall Street Journal Weekly, December 3, 1979, p. 10. See also Melinda Liu, "Wei and the Fifth Moderniza­ tion," Far Eastern Economic Review, November 2, 1979, pp. 22-23. 3. At pp. 14-20. English excerpts from the article are published in The New York Times, May 7, 1979, pp. AI, AlO. See also Fox Butterfield, "Peking Dissident, in Rare Account, Tells of Political Prisoners' Torture,'' ibid. (7) 8 CoNTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES was brought to trial by the Beijing (Peking) Municipal Intermediate People's Court and sentenced to 15 years' imprisonment, with depriva­ tion of political rights for a further three years. Wei was convicted of providing a foreigner with Chinese military intelligence and carrying out counterrevolutionary agitation. 4 The prosecution, debates and sentencing altogether lasted for 6 hours and 35 minutes (8:40a.m. to noon and 2:00p.m. to 5:15p.m.; it is a custom of the PRC's officials to take a nap after lunch). The basis of the charge was the 1951 Counterrevolutionary Act, of which the following articles were cited by the court: Article 2. "All counterrevolutionary criminals whose goal is to overthrow the people's democratic regime or to under­ mine the undertaking of the people's democracy shall be punished in accordance with the Act." Article 6, paragraph 1. "Those who engage in any one of the following acts of espionage or of aiding the enemy shall be punished by death or life imprisonment; where the cir­ cumstances of their cases are relatively minor they shall be punished by not less than five years of imprisonment: "(1) Stealing or searching for state secrets or supply­ ing intelligence to a domestic or foreign enemy." Article 10, paragraphs 2 and 3. "Those who, with a counter­ revolutionary purpose, commit any one of the following acts of provocation or incitement shall be punished by not less than three years of imprisonment; where the circumstances of their cases are major they shall be punished by death or life imprisonment: "(2) Provoking dissension among the various nation­ alities, democratic parties and groups, people's organi­ zations or between the people and the government; "(3) Conducting counterrevolutionary propaganda and agitation and making and spreading rumors." Article 16. "Persons who have committed other crimes with counterrevolutionary intent that are not specified in the Act shall be punished according to analogous specified crimes in the Act." Article 17. "Those who commit crimes enumerated in this Act may be deprived of their political rights. . . ." 5

4. "Wei Jingsheng Sentenced," Beijing Review, Vol. 22, No. 43 (October 26, 1979), pp. 6-7. 5. Translation of the Act in Shao-chuan Leng and Hungdah Chiu, Criminal Justice in CASE OF WEI JINGSHENG 9

The Chinese authorities did not reveal the transcript of the pro­ ceedings, but later an unofficial transcript of the proceedings was cir­ culated in Beijing and subsequently published in Hong Kong and Taiwan.6 According to this source, Wei conducted his own defense, but the official account neither revealed any of his arguments, nor pub­ lished the complete text of the judgment, it simply announced the following: In order to consolidate the of the , . safeguard the socialist system, ensure the smooth progress of socialist modernization and punish counterrevolutionary criminals, the chief judge said, the court had sentenced Wei Jingsheng to 15 years' imprisonment, depriving him of polit­ ical rights for an additional three years in accordance with the provisions of article 2, item 1, under article 6, items 2 and 3, under article 10, article 16 and article 17 of the Act for the Punishment of Counter-revolution. 7 Wei Jingsheng lodged an appeal against the court's judgment to the Beijing Municipal Higher People's Court. On November 6, 1979, in one day's time, this court concluded the debate between the prosecutor and Wei and rejected the appeal. 8 Under the PRC's legal process, the case was thus affirmed; no further appeal to the Supreme People's Court is permitted. 9

ANALYSIS OF THE TRIAL AND THE SENTENCE A thorough analysis of the merits of the prosecution and Wei's defense is beyond the scope of this paper; a summary of the charges and defense will appear in the appendix to this paper. 10 Here, the fo­ cus will remain primarily on the procedural aspects of the case. First, although a notice on the wall of the court on 16 October had said that the trial of Wei would be open to the public, none of Wei's family

Post-Mao China: Analysis and Documents, Albany, New York: State University of New York Press, 1985, pp. 177-182. 6. E.g., see Xie Hua, Wei Jingsheng Qishi Lu (Apocalypse of Wei Jingsheng), Taipei: United Press, 1981. 7. , China, Violations ofHuman Rights, : Amnesty In­ ternational Publications, 1984, p. 25. 8. "The People's Verdict-Wei Jingsheng's appeal rejected," Beijing Review, Vol. 22, No. 46 (November 16, 1979), pp. 15-16. 9. See Xing Zhong, "Judicial Organs and Judicial Procedure in China,'' Beijing Re­ view, Vol. 22, No. 2 (January 12, 1979), p. 32. 10. Excerpts of the trial proceedings can be found in The New York Times, November 15, 1979, p. A22. 10 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES members or friends were allowed to enter the court room. Foreign correspondents were turned away. Several hundred spectators were taken in, but a woman who attended said afterward that she had re­ ceived her ticket the day before the trial at her work place and had been instructed to attend. 11 Second, the Court apparently was not confident of the legal basis, under the 1951 Counterrevolutionary Act, upon which the charge and sentence against Wei were based. The court therefore invoked the catch-all Article 16 provision allowing for punishment for crime by analogy (quoted above). The principle of crime by analogy is specifi­ cally prohibited by the 1948 Universal Declaration of Human Rights which provides in Article 11, paragraph 2: "No one shall be held guilty of any penal offense on account of any act or omission which did not constitute a penal offense, under national or international law, at the time when it was committed." Third, one of the charges against Wei was that he supplied mili­ tary secrets regarding the Sino-Vietnamese to a foreigner. In re­ gard to the question of proof required for a conviction, it is instructive to note that the foreigner to whom the secrets were allegedly supplied was neither called to testify nor identified. However, one spectator said that the prosecutor, during the reading of the two-hour indict­ ment, had mentioned several countries, including Great Britain and . 12 If the recipient was indeed a national of one of these coun­ tries, then Article 6, paragraph 1 of the 1951 Counterrevolutionary Act was certainly not applicable, because Great Britain and France definitely were not "enemies" of the PRC at that time. Ironically, the day before Wei's trial, , the PRC's then Communist Party Chairman and Prime Minister, began his three-week visit to four European countries, including France and Great Britain. Moreover, Wei was only an average citizen and held a low level job--electrician at a zoo; it is unlikely that he was privy to top secrets of the state. The alleged "military secrets" of the names of the commanders and the number of Chinese troops, battle developments and the number of cas­ ualties, were already released in the Chinese newspaper Cankao Xiaoxi (Reference News, 13 which has a circulation of several million) and for­ eign newspapers. 14 Furthermore, one of the· elements of a counterrev­ olutionary crime is that it was carried out intentionally, but the court

11. See Fox Butterfield, "Leading Chinese Dissident gets 15-year Prison Term," The New York Times, October 17, 1979, p. AJ. 12. Ibid. 13. China, Violations of Human Rights, supra note 7, p. 24. 14. Jorg-Meinhard Rudolph, Cankao-Xiaoxi· Foreign news in the Propaganda System CASE OF WEI JINGSHENG 11

had not proven a motive of betraying the country when Wei talked about the war with a foreigner. 15 Fourth, whether or not Wei's case was handled in accordance with the system of "deciding a case by the Secretary," i.e., by the Party Committee of the area, is a question that cannot be ignored. According to an article in the Dadi (Great Earth, published on No­ vember 4, 1979), 16 the Beijing City Revolutionary Committee, i.e., the municipal government, and the Beijing Party Committee both played a dominant role in the arrest and sentencing of Wei. It is reported that Wei was arrested by the Public Security Bureau on telephoned instruc­ tions from the Deputy Director of the Beijing City Revolutionary Committee, Xiaoyi. When Wei demanded that the public se­ curity personnel show their arrest warrant, 17 they replied: "We want to arrest you, why do we need an arrest warrant!" A week later, the arrest warrant was issued by the court. However, before the issuance of the warrant, the court, apparently referring to the Beijing City In­ termediate People's Court, expressed the view that it should wait for instructions from the Beijing Higher People's Court. The City Party Committee, however, instructed the court to issue an arrest warrant to the Public Security Bureau. Later, according to the same report, the representatives of Beijing City at the National People's Congress re­ quested the procuracy and the court to explain the process of handling Wei''i case, but the City Party Committee instructed the procuracy and the court not to do so. Only after a deputy chairman of the Stand­ ing Committee of the National People's Congress, Tan Zhenling, criti­ cized the City Party Committee and the City Revolutionary Committee, was a cadre from the Organization Department of the City Party Committee-not from the procuracy or the court-sent to explain the process of handling the Wei case to the representatives from Beijing at the National People's Congress. 18 In view of the pro­ cess of handling Wei's case, it seems clear that Wei's sentence had already been decided before the trial, so this is not an independent judicial trial.

I of the People's Republic of China, Baltimore: Occasional Papers/Reprints Series in Contem- porary Asian Studies, No. 6-1984 (65), p. 5. 15. Carlos Wing-hung Lo, The Legal System and Criminal Responsibility of Intellectu­ als in the People's Republic of China, 1949-82, Baltimore: Occasional Papers/Reprints Se­ ries in Contemporary Asian Studies, No. 2-1985 (67), p. 103. 16. Information supplied by a visitor to China. 17. Wei was arrested after the promulgation of the 1979 Arrest and Detention Act. Both the new law and the 1954 Act require a warrant for arresting a person. 18. Information supplied by a visitor to China. 12 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

Finally, Wei was accused of writing and publishing reactionary articles as a means to instigate the overthrow of the so-called "dicta­ torship of the proletariat." But, looking at the alleged "evidence" used by the Court to render the sentence, Wei only launched criti­ cisms, and had not taken or advocated any violent action to overthrow the Chinese Communist government. Article 19 of the 1948 Universal Declaration of Human Rights guarantees such freedom of criticism by stating: "Everyone has the right to freedom of opinion and expres­ sion; this right includes freedom to hold opinions without interference and to seek, receive and impart information and ideas through any media and regardless of frontiers." In this connection, an overseas scholar of Chinese origin commented: The expression of opinions contrary to the socialist system was not equivalent to conducting subversive activities. In fact, there were constant demands for the abolition of "guilty derived from speech" in socialist law since this contradicted free exercise of the as protected by the Constitution. Wei's speeches might have had a harmful ef­ fect on political and social unity and stability which are in­ dispensable for the modernization. On that ground Wei could be found guilty. But still the degree of severity could not justify the verdict of a counterrevolutionary crime. The unreasonable principle of "guilt derived from speeches and writings" cannot be removed although Deng has claimed the abolition of such a practice many times. The trial of Wei was thus "pure formality" and "he was presumed to be guilty."l9

CONCLUSION In view of the above analysis, the Wei Jingsheng case is clearly a political case and the trial process, the substance of the alleged crimi­ nal acts and the applicable law cannot meet the minimum standard of administration of criminal justice of civilized nations. The purpose of the conviction and sentence by the Beijing authorities is obviously to bring an abrupt end to his pioneering democracy movement.

19. Lo, The Legal System, supra note 15, p. 104. CASE OF WEI JINGSHENG 13

APPENDIX A

TEXT OF ARTICLE USED IN EVIDENCE 'Democracy of a New Dictatorship' by Wei Jingsheng (Abbreviated Translation) This article by Wei Jingsheng was published in a special issue of the unofficial journal Exploration in Beijing in March 1979. Wei Jingsheng was a"ested shortly after its publica­ tion. The article was cited by the prosecution at his trial in October 1979 as one of the writings for which he was accused of "inciting the overthrow of the Dictatorship of the Proleta­ riat" and "carrying out counte"evolutionary agitation and propaganda. " The text below is an abbreviated version of the translation of the article by John Scott and Pamela Barnsley which was published in the March 1980 issue of Harpers and Queen (London).* "Everyone in China is well aware that the Chinese social system is not democratic and that this lack of democracy has severely stunted every aspect of the country's social development over the past 30 years. In the face of this hard fact there are two choices before the Chinese people. Either to reform the social system if they want to develop their society and seek a swift increase in the prosperity of their livelihood and economic resources; or, if they are content with a con­ tinuation of the Mao Zedong brand of proletarian dictatorship then they cannot even talk of democracy, nor will they be able to realise the modernization of their lives and resources. ( ...) "Where is China heading and in what sort of society do the peo­ ple hope to live and work? "The answer can be seen in the mood of the majority of the peo­ ple. It is this mood amongst the people that brought about the present democratic movement. With the denial of Mao Zedong's style of dic­ tatorship as its very prerequisite, the aim of this movement is to re­ form the social system and thereby enable the Chinese people to increase production and develop their lives to the full in a democratic social environment. This aim is not just the aim of a few isolated indi­ viduals but represents a whole trend in the development of Chinese society. ( ...) Those who doubt this need only recall the [April 5], Movement in 1976, for those who were judged by the court in the

• Reprinted by permission. 14 CoNTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES minds of the people then, even when they were some of the most pow­ erful in the country have not escaped its ultimate verdict. "But are there people who remain unafraid of such a judgment? Of course there are--and more than a few of them. Several of those at the top who are drunk with the wielding of power often forget such niceties as the people's judgment, and others out of their personal am­ bition and despotic inclinations abuse people's credulity. For example, the speech that Vice-Premier Deng Xiaoping made to leading cadres of the Central Committee on [March 16, 1979] was an attempt to take advantage of the people's past confidence in him to oppose the demo­ cratic movement itself. He levelled all sorts of charges at the demo­ cratic movement and ·tried to lay on it the blame for the failure of China's production and economy when it was Hua and Deng's polit­ ical system that was at fault. Thus the people are made the scapegoats for the failure of their leaders' policies. Does Deng Xiaoping really deserve the people's trust? No political leader as an individual has a right to expect the people's unconditional trust. If he carries out poli­ cies beneficial to the people along the road to and prosperity, then we should trust him. Our trust in him is for his policies and the means to apply these policies. On the other hand, should he carry out policies harmful to the people's interests, the path he is treading is a 's path running counter to the people's will, and this should be opposed. The people are as much opposed to this path ... as they are to measures harmful to their interests and to policies undermining their legitimate rights. According to the principles of democracy any authority must give way to opposition from the people. "But Deng Xiaoping does not give way. When the people are demanding a widespread inquiry into the reasons for China's back­ wardness over the last 30 years and into Mao Zedong's crimes against the people, Deng is the first to rush and declare: 'With no Mao Zedong there would be no New China.' Furthermore, in his speech of [March 16, 1979] he stubbornly adhered to this and even flattered Mao Zedong's ghost when he called him 'the banner of the Chinese people' and claimed that Mao's weaknesses and mistakes were so in­ significant as to be unworthy of mention. "Is he afraid that an investigation into Mao's mistakes would lead to an investigation into those who were his collaborators? Or is Deng simply preparing to continue the Mao Zedong brand of dictatorial so­ cialist government? If the former is the case, then Deng has nothing to fear, since the tolerance of the Chinese people is great enough to forgive him his past mistakes provided that from now on he leads the country towards democracy and prosperity. But if the latter is the CASE OF WEI JINGSHENG 15

case, we will never forgive him, even if recently he has been the best [of the leaders]. If his aim is to continue the Mao Zedong style of dictatorship, inevitably his course of action could only lead to eco· nomic ruin and the abuse of the people's interests. Anyone forgiving such a criminal would himself be indirectly guilty of committing crimes against the people. "Does Deng Xiaoping want democracy? No, he does not. He is unwilling to comprehend the utter misery of the common people. He is unwilling to allow the people to regain those powers usurped by an ambitious bunch of careerists. He describes the struggle for demo· cratic rights-a movement launched spontaneously by the people-as the actions of troublemakers and of people who want to destroy nor· mal public order which must therefore be repressed. To resort to such measures to deal with people who criticize mistaken policies and with people who demand social development reveals the government's great fear of this popular movement. "We cannot help asking Mr. Deng what his idea of democracy is. If the people have no right to express freely their opinions or to enjoy freedom of speech and criticism, then how can one talk of democracy? If his idea of democracy is a democracy which does not allow others to criticize those in power, then how is such a democracy in the end any different from Mao Zedong's tyranny concealed behind the slogan 'The Democracy of the Dictatorship of the Proletariat'? "The people want to appeal against injustice, want to vent their grievances, and want democracy, and so they hold meetings. The peo· pie oppose and dictatorship and so they demonstrate. This clearly shows that without democracy their very livelihood lacks any safeguard. Is it possible, when the people have no power and are so much at the mercy of others . . . that such a situation can be called 'normal public order'? If such ·normal public order' is one that gives to the careerist the right to wreak havoc with the people's interests, then does it benefit the careerists or the people to safeguard such an order? Is the answer not painfully obvious? We consider that normal public order is not total uniformity; particularly in politics, where a normal state of affairs only functions when there exists a great diversity of opinion. When there are no divergent opinions, no diverse discussion and publications, then it is clear that a dictatorship is in existence. Thus, when there is total uniformity, this must surely be called 'abnormal order'. When social phenomena are interpreted as the occasion for criminal elements to make trouble and are used as an ex~u~e to d~ away with the people's right to express their opinions, thts ts the ttme·honoured practice of fascist dictators both new and 16 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES old. Remember the [Tiananmen] Square incident, when the used the pretext that certain people had burnt cars as an excuse to crush the popular revolutionary movement. Above all else the peo­ ple should be forever wary of placing unqualified trust in any one ruler invested with their authority. "The people should ensure that Deng Xiaoping does not degener­ ate into a dictator. After he was reinstated in 1975, it seemed he was unwilling to follow Mao Zedong's dictatorial system and would, in­ stead, care for the interests of the people. So the people eagerly looked up to him in the hope that he would realize their aspirations. They were even ready to shed their blood for him-as the [Tiananmen] Square incident showed. But was such support vested in his person alone? Certainly not. (... ) If he now wants to discard his mask of protecting the people and take steps to suppress their democratic movement ... then he certainly does not merit the people's trust and support. From his behaviour it is clear that he is neither concerned with democracy nor does he any longer protect the people's interests. By deceiving the people to win their confidence he is actually following the path to dictatorship. "It has been demonstrated countless times throughout China's past history that once the confidence of the people has been gained by deception, the dictators work without restraint-for as the ancients said: 'He who can win the people's minds, can win the empire'. Once masters of the whole nation, their private interests inevitably conflict with those of the people, and they must perforce use repression against those very men who are struggling for the interests of the people them­ selves. So the crux of the matter is not who becomes master of , but rather that . . . the people must maintain a firm control over their own nation, for this is the very essence of democracy. Peo­ ple entrusted with governmental positions . . . must be controlled by the people and be responsible to the people. According to the Consti­ tution of the People's Republic of China, organizations and individu­ als in the administration must be elected by the people, empowered and controlled by an elected government under the supervision of the people and responsible to the people; only then does there exist a legal­ ity for executive powers. "We would like to ask the high officials who instigate the arrest of individuals-is the power you exercise legal or not? We would like to ask Chairman Hua and Vice-Chairman Deng-is your occupation of the highest offices of state based on any form of legality? Further, we would like some elucidation as to why it is the Vice-Chairman and the Vice-Premier and not the courts or organizations representing the peo- CASE OF WEI JINGSHENG 17

pie who announce who is to be arrested. Is this state of affairs legal or not? "And again we would like to ask, according to , does the label 'bad element' constitute a criminal per se. In fact by what criterion does one define a 'bad element'? And on whose judgment is such a criterion made? If these simple questions are not clearly an­ swered there is no point in talking about rule by law in China. "The experience of history tells us that there must be a limit to the amount of trust conferred upon any individual. Anyone seeking the unrestricted and unconditional trust of the people is a man of un­ bridled ambition. The important problem is to select the right sort of person to put one's trust in, and even more important is how such a person is to be supervised in carrying out the will of the majority.(... ) We can only trust those representatives who are supervised by us and responsible to us. Moreover such representatives should be chosen by us and not simply thrust upon us. ( ...) "Only a genuine general election can create a government and leaders ready to serve the interests of the electorate. If the government and its leaders are truly subject to the people's mandate and supervi­ sion, those two afftictions that leadership is prone to--personal ambi­ tion and megalomania--can be avoided. No one should blame leaders for being prone to a touch of power fever.( ...) Nor should we blame the people for their ignorance in not daring to strike a single blow in their own interests. This may happen because we are without a social system in which a wise people supervises and counterbalances equally sagacious and worthy functionaries. "Furthering reforms within the social system and moving Chi­ nese politics towards democracy are the prerequisites necessary to solve all the social and economic problems that confront China today. Only by being elected by the people can the leadership gain their vol­ untary cooperation and bring their initiative into play. Only when the people enjoy complete freedom of expression can they help their lead­ ers to analyze and solve problems . . . Cooperation, together with poli­ cies formulated and carried out by the people, are necessary for the highest degree of working efficiency and the achievement of ideal results. "This is the only road along which present-day China can make progress. Under present-day conditions, it is an extremely difficult path." 18 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

APPENDIX B EXCERPTS FROM A PEKING TRIAL TRANSCRIPT Special to The New York Times • November 15, 1979, p. A22. PEKING, Nov. 14-Following are translated excerpts from a transcript of the indictment against Wei Jingsheng, editor of the Chinese dissident journal Explorations, as read by the prosecutor, Gao Wenyu, in the Peking Intermediate People's Court on Oct. 16, and of Mr. Wei's defense. The transcript was published by the underground journal Fifth of April Fo­ rum and sold at Democracy Wall.

By the Prosecutor Chief Judge, People's Assessors: There is no denying that Wei Jing­ sheng carried out an enormous amount of counterrevolutionary activi­ ties, given the amount of evidence. First, the defendant betrayed his motherland by supplying mili­ tary intelligence to a foreigner. Shortly after our country launched the counterattack in self-defense against the Vietnamese aggressors to de­ fend our border area, the defendant Wei Jingsheng arranged secret meetings with foreign agents in Peking and supplied foreigner [blank] with important military intelligence including the names of the com­ manders of the Chinese troops, the number of such troops, battle de­ velopments and the number of casualties. The defendant willingly became the running dog of . Thus he is merely a scum of the nation.

Charge Regarding Publication Second, the defendant wrote many reactionary articles to carry out his counter-revolutionary propaganda and agitation for the overthrow of the dictatorship of the proletariat and the socialist system. Between December 1978 and March 1979, the defendant wrote over 10 reac­ tionary articles such as the "Fifth Modernization," and put them up in such places as Xidan Street [the location of Democracy Wall] or printed them in the reactionary journal Explorations. In these articles he tried his best to vilify Marxism--Mao Zedong thought as a prescription only slightly better than the medicine peddled by charlatans. He also slandered our socialist sys-

• © 1979 by The New York Times Company. Reprinted by permission. CASE OF WEI JINGSHENG 19

tern as an autocratic system that oppresses democracy. He said it is nothing but a feudal monarchy disguised as . The above-mentioned counterrevolutionary crimes of Wei Jing­ sheng are directly in violation of Article 56 of our Constitution, which stipulates that "citizens must support the leadership of the Communist Party of China, support the socialist system and safeguard the unity of the motherland." Our Constitution clearly stipulates extensive democratic rights. However, our democracy should be a democracy protected by law. It does not mean absolute freedom for one to do as one likes. Freedom of speech of the individual citizen must be based on the four basic principles of insisting on the socialist road, the dictatorship of the pro­ letariat, the leadership of the party and Marxism-Leninism-Mao Zedong thought. The citizen has only the freedom to support these principles and not the freedom to oppose them. The defendant hid his criminal aim of overthrowing the dictator­ ship of the proletariat and changing the socialist system under the guise of democracy. If such individualistic freedom of the minority is allowed to run rampant, the freedom of the majority will be lost. The people will sink into misery and the nation will be doomed.

By Wei Jingsheng I believe the charges enumerated in the prosecutor's indictment are untenable. I published articles and wrote big-character posters on the basis of Article 45 of the Constitution, which says that citizens have the freedom of speech, correspondence, assembly, publication, associa­ tion, parade, demonstration and strike as well as freedom to write big­ character posters and hold big debates. We published our journal for the purpose of exploring China and making it rich and powerful. We believe that only by free, unre­ strained and practical exploration is it possible to achieve this purpose. On the first charge, the indictment states that a counterrevolu­ tionary crime is committed when our country's military intelligence is given to a foreigner. The word military intelligence is a very broad concept. Citizens have the duty to keep secrets, but the premise is that citizens must know what secrets are to be kept.

Question of What Is a Secret I was never told of the secrets I must keep. After the outbreak of the Chinese-Vietnamese war, I had no access to anything classified as secret. 20 CoNTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

I am an ordinary man in the street and my source of information was hearsay and not any official government documents. The news I talked about could not cause any harm to the situation on the front line. I took this into account beforehand. For instance, I mentioned the name of the commander in chief at the front. Who has ever heard that one side ever lost a battle because the other side [knew] the name of the commander? Of course, the prosecutor might say that according to law this is a military secret. But during the time of the Gang of Four, anything was taken as a secret and any random talk with foreigners could be construed as illicit relations with foreign countries. Does the prosecutor want people to follow the practice of the time of the Gang of Four? If the prosecutor thinks I have committed errors because the con­ tent of my talks included things that the Government did not wish me to tell, I will totally accept it, since this is the duty of every citizen. But I still hope the Government can specify more clearly the scope of the secrets that should be kept by the people.

The Meaning of Revolution Second, the indictment states that I carried out counterrevolutionary propaganda and agitation. If this is so, we should first clarify what is revolution and what is counterrevolution. Because of the policy of hoodwinking the people adopted by the Gang of Four, some people have the following view: It is revolutionary to act in accordance with the will of the leaders in power and counterrevolutionary to oppose the will of the people in power. I cannot agree with this debasing of the concept of revolution. Revolution is the struggle between the old and the new. Since the revolutionary tides are different in different historical periods, the targets of the phrase "counterrevolutionary" are also dif­ ferent. The current historical tide is a democratic one, which opposes feudal, fascist dictatorship. The central theme in my articles such as the "Fifth Modernization" is that without democracy there will be no . [The Four modernizations-agriculture, indus­ try, science and defense-are China's official goals.] How can such a theme be counterrevolutionary? People that op­ pose it should justly be labeled counterrevolutionary.

Marxism Is Said to Change Third, the indictment says I "slandered Marxism-Leninism-Mao CASE OF WEI JINGSHENG 21

Zedong thought as a prescription only slightly better than the medicine peddled by charlatans." I did not. No things exist in the world that never change from beginning to end. Marxism is no excep­ tion. After 100 years of development, Marxism has been successively changed into many different branches, for example, Kautskyism, Len­ inism, , , Mao Zedong thought and . We find that some organized under the dictatorship of the proletariat in which power is concentrated in a few hands, such as the and Vietnam, and China before the Gang of Four was smashed, have degenerated into fascist governments, with a mi­ nority of the leading class exercising dictatorship over the broad masses of the working people. The fate of Marxism is like that of many schools of thought in history. Its revolutionary essence was emasculated after its second and third generations. Some of the ideals of its teachings have been used by rulers as the pretext for enslaving people. Is this not a pre­ scription that is only slightly better than medicine peddled by charlatans?

Constitutional Provision Oted Fourth, the indictment states that I "put forth the banner of so-called freedom of speech and the demand for democracy and human rights to agitate for the overthrow of the dictatorship of the proletariat." I must point out that freedom of speech is not a wild allegation, but is guaranteed in black and white in the Constitution. The tone in which the prosecutor talks about that right shows not only that he is prejudiced in his thinking, but that he has forgotten his responsibility to protect the democratic rights of citizens. The prosecutor accuses me of trying to overthrow the socialist system. In the course of my editing, our publication Explorations has never engaged in conspiracy of violence. Explorations is a journal of theoretical investigation on public sale. It has never taken the over­ throw of the government as its aim. The prosecutors perhaps do not agree with my theories. In my several conversations with them we have talked about this. I would just like to add a point. The Constitution gives the people the right to criticize leaders because they are human beings and not deities. Only through criticism and supervision by the people can they reduce their errors. Criticism cannot possibly be nice and appealing to the ear or all correct. To require criticism to be entirely correct and to inflict pun- 22 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES ishment if it is not is the same as prohibiting criticism and reforms and elevating the leaders to the position of deities. Is it really true that we must again take the path of superstition of the Gang of Four? The above is my defense. 2. FANG LIZHI AND HIS ACI' OF DEFIANCE*

Orville Schell**

On Feb. 22, 1989, a representative from the American Embassy in Beijing arrived at a bleak apartment building in the Zhongguancun suburbs of the capital and pressed a bell on the 11th floor. When it finished ringing out an electronic rendition of "Happy Birthday" and the door opened, he delivered two crisp envelopes for the astrophysi­ cist Fang Lizhi and his wife, Li Shu:xian, a professor of physics. They were not a little surprised to discover that the envelopes contained invitations to a Texas-style barbecue banquet, to be given by President George Bush four days hence in the grand ballroom of the Great Wall Sheraton Hotel. Their surprise was understandable; since January 1987, when Fang was dismissed from his job as vice president of the prestigious University of Science and Technology and expelled from the for his advocacy of democracy and human rights, he had been an official nonentity in China. (In his new job, as a researcher at the Beijing Astronomical Observatory, he has been allowed to retain his membership in the Chinese Academy of Sciences.) "I had simply not imagined that we would be invited to such an occasion," he told me later, his boyish face registering delight and his voice still tinged with incredulity. For the last decade, Fang, now 53, has been recognized for his work in cosmology as one of China's most brilliant scientists. It was not until 1986, however, when he traveled around the country speak­ ing out at major universities on the need for the party to democratize its reform program, that he also began to emerge as China's best­ known and most respected dissident political thinker. But unlike many Chinese intellectuals, who in the past had been silenced by party censure and persecution, Fang, after his defrocking in 1987, broadened

• Reprinted by permission of ICM, Inc., dated March 28, 1990, from The New York Times Magazine, April 16, 1989. •• The author prepared this article before the 1989 student uprising. After the June 4, 1989 crackdown of the democracy movement, Fang Lizhi and his wife took refuge at the American Embassy in Beijing, where they stayed until their departure for London on June 25, 1990. For details, see Sheila Rule, "China Dissident to Study in U.S. and to Speak Out," The New York Times, July 14, 1990, p. 5. (23) 24 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES his critique of the undemocratic nature of Communist Party rule and of socialism's failure in China. By doing so, he earned not only the adulation of students and many members of the intelligentsia, but the ire of ranking officials, including that of senior leader Deng Xiaoping, whose notions of re­ form do not embrace the kind of freewheeling political dialogue es­ poused by Fang. Given his vulnerable position within China, it is understandable that Fang welcomed Bush's invitation, both as a form of personal protection and as a means of helping focus worldwide at­ tention on the fledgling democracy movement which, during the months preceding the President's visit, had been gathering new momentum. On Feb. 25, the day before the banquet, Fang discovered that Perry Link, an American professor of and director of an office that conducts scholarly communications between the United States and China, had also been invited. Because Link knew Fang and lived nearby, the two decided to drive to the event together. As Fang would soon appreciate, this was a fateful decision. When Fang and his wife emerged from their building the next evening around sunset, he in a dark Western suit and tie, she in a white-and-black checkered evening dress and heels, they were in high spirits. They stepped into the Datsun in which Perry Link and his wife, Jean Wong, had just arrived with their driver, and set off. But 20 minutes later, as they came within a few blocks of the Great Wall Sheraton, they found their car suddenly halted and omi­ nously surrounded by a phalanx of armed police. Thinking at first they had been stopped for a routine security check, they did not try to get out. But when their driver was told to pull across the street next to the Kunlun Hotel-which is reported to have been built and run by the Public Security Bureau-and then suddenly charged with an unex­ plained traffic violation, the two couples found themselves obstructed from getting out of the car so that they could walk to the Sheraton. As Fang, ever the logician, later recalled: "Since we were not driving, I said, 'All right. If the driver has violated traffic , why don't you keep him and let us go?' " The police did not respond, how­ ever, nor did they respond to attempts by Fang and Link to show them their official invitations. When the four finally did succeed in getting out of the car, Fang and his wife were suddenly shouldered off by a serum [sic] of police. Only after Fang's repeated requests to speak to someone in authority did a man step forward and identify himself, according to Fang, as the "main person in charge of the security for President Bush's visit." He FANG LIZHI 25

told Fang that because neither his nor his wife's name was on "the list provided to us by American security," they would not be allowed to proceed. "I thought this was quite an amazing statement," recalled Fang, "for the truth was that they had not yet even asked us our names!" Shortly thereafter, the two couples finally managed to join up again and they decided to go to the American Embassy, where they hoped someone would be able to confirm their invitations. At this point, they discovered their car had disappeared. Mindful that Fang might well have been destined for detention inside the Kunlun Hotel had the Links not been accompanying him, the two couples found themselves with no choice but to head over to its main entrance, where a few cabs were waiting. Finally getting a car, they had gone no more than a few blocks when they were again halted by police, who this time declared that the taxi could not con· tinue because of an allegedly defective rear light. Leaving their second impounded vehicle, this "strange little band," as Fang referred to them, next tried to board a series of public buses. But each of these, in tum, was directed away from the bus stop by agitated police. By this time, it was nearing 8 o'clock-an hour after the banquet had begun-and with no alternative left, they set off on foot, a retinue of police cars and plainclothesmen with walkie-talk­ ies following along behind. Later, Fang expressed his unalloyed gratitude for the way the Links had stood by him and his wife: "There was never any question about what they would do. Again and again they reassured us that under no circumstance would they leave us, that we would all stay together throughout." "If Fang had been alone in his own car, I don't know what the police would have done with him," said Link. "But the unanticipated presence of my white face probably made it 'inconvenient' for them to do what they had originally planned." After an hour wandering around trying to find a phone in the back streets of Beijing, the four finally reached the residence of the United States Ambassador. Unable to raise anyone inside, they were considering what to do next when David Horley, a Canadian diplo­ mat, happened to walk by on an evening stroll with his wife. Recog­ nizing Fang immediately from photographs, the Horleys invited the wanderers to take refuge in their nearby apartment. Meanwhile, in t~e banquet hall, Chinese President stood up, facmg an enormous flag of Texas, and delivered a speech which was utterly out of synch with what was going on outside. 26 CoNTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

"We are most delighted tonight to be able to meet again joyously and to chat freely at this grand dinner given by President and Mrs. Bush," he intoned, then declared that the President's visit had "added another chapter to the annals of friendship between the Chinese and American peoples." President Yang had entered the ballroom with Prime Minister only after Fang, whose activities had been particularly galling to Party leaders in the weeks before the banquet, had been waylaid. Although the state-controlled media has tried to embargo almost all news about him since his defrocking two years ago, word of Fang's outspoken views has still managed to spread through the grapevine. In fact, his reputation seemed to grow exponentially in proportion to the Party's efforts to suppress it, so that few educated people in China are now unfamiliar with his name. This is not to say that all Chinese intellectuals agree with Fang's uncompromising views. Over the last two years, however, more and more of them have come to sympathize not just with what he was saying, but with the fact that he dared speak out so forthrightly. Like a volatile new chemical element which is capable of transforming a stable compound, Fang's voice was becoming an ever more powerful catalyst in changing the once-fearful attitude in intellectuals toward the Communist Party. Particularly alarming to the leadership about this change was their recognition that in the past it was precisely the alienation of the educated elite which had prefigured the downfall of so many other Chinese governments. It had been just such alienation, in fact, that sent intellectuals into the streets in 1919 during the May 4 Movement, in effect launching the Chinese Communists revolution itself. Before the much-publicized student demonstrations of 1986, Fang was already describing socialism as a "failure" and human rights as "a critical component" of China's reforms. In May 1988, while Party officials were busy celebrating the 90th anniversary of Beijing University in a nearby stadium, Fang suddenly appeared elsewhere on campus, and before a crowd of several hundred enthusiastic students spoke of the "urgency" of stressing ", of ideas and speech." On a trip to and Hong Kong that summer, he pro­ claimed the necessity of a two-party system in China, and repeatedly criticized party officials-including the children of high-ranking lead­ ers-for using their privileged positions to bilk the state and then de­ posit their ill-gotten wealth in foreign bank accounts. Shortly thereafter-reportedly on direct orders from Deng Xiaoping-his exit visa for a trip to the United States, where he had applied to lecture at FANG LIZHI 27 several universities and engage in six months of cosmological research, was cancelled. Undaunted, on January 6, 1989, Fang made his boldest move yet. With the same calm rationalism that distinguishes his scientific work on the origins of the universe, he wrote an open appeal to Deng, which, though appearing abroad and circulated among Chinese intel­ lectuals, was never officially published in China. "Dear Chairman Deng," he began, "1989 is both the 40th anni­ versary of the People's Republic of China and the 70th anniversary of the May 4 Movement . . . . Therefore, I would like to sincerely suggest that a general amnesty be declared, and what is more, that Wei Jing­ sheng and all other political prisoners be released. Regardless of how one might view Wei Jingsheng, to release someone such as him who has already served nearly a decade in prison would, in my view, be a humanitarian gesture which could not but have a beneficial effect on the morale of society . . . ." Wei Jingsheng is, of course, the Democracy Wall activist who in 1978-79 protested that Deng's vaunted Four Modernizations- agri­ culture, industry, science and technology and national defense­ should have included a fifth, namely, democracy. Arrested on a con­ trived charge of having given military secrets to a foreigner, he was ultimately sentenced as a "counterrevolutionary" to 15 years in jail. In spite of the fact China continues to deny that it has any "political prisoners," Wei remains in prison-along with other Democracy Wall activists such as Liu Qing, Xu Wenli and Wang Xizhe. Until Fang's letter, no concerted effort had been made in China to their arrests or their treatment in jail, never mind to make an appeal to China's to set them and all other "political prisoners" free. By publicly raising this question, Fang's letter, with its electrifying simplicity and directness, had succeeded not only in resurrecting the names of these prisoners from oblivion, but in forcing forward the boundaries of permissible discourse in China by one more giant step. As if in antiphonal response, a second public letter was released to foreign correspondents in Beijing on Feb. 16, this time addressed to the Standing Committee of the National People's Congress and writ­ ten by the short-story writer and poet : "Mter having learned of Mr. Fang Lizhi's open letter of January 6th to Chairman Deng Xiaoping, we are deeply concerned. We be­ lieve that the release of political prisoners, especially Wei Jingsheng and others on the occasion of the 40th anniversary of the People's Republic of China and the 70th anniversary of the May 4 Movement 28 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES would be a salutary move, and would create a more harmonious at­ mosphere which would be good for reform, and which would conform to the universal trend toward human rights in the world today." The letter was signed by 33 intellectuals, not just the handful of already disaffected cultural figures whom the Party might have ex­ pected, but a host of new people, who had much to lose and little to gain. Their support was a clear indication that levels of alienation among intellectuals had now reached a new and dangerous high-water mark. As Fang noted at the time, "There will be more events like this, because they are part of a larger trend that will be hard to stop." In­ deed, before the month was out, yet another letter of support calling on China's leaders to guarantee freedom of speech, publication and information had been signed by 42 prominent scientists. On Feb. 22, the Chinese Government responded in a way as con­ fusing as it was hapless. Using a convoluted form of quasi-legalese which has become typical of recent Party efforts to stifle its adversa­ ries, an unnamed Justice Ministry official declared, "It is against China's legal principles for the writers of this letter to stir up public opinion in an attempt to overturn an independent jurisdiction by solic­ iting signatures." Thus, on Feb. 25, when Bush arrived for his 40-hour visit in Bei­ jing (from , where he had attended the funeral of Emperor Hiro­ hito), he found himself in a country not only transformed since his days as head of the United States Liaison Office in 1974-75, but also steeped in political dissent. From the outside, there were conflicting agendas on the Ameri­ can side. On the one hand, Bush's trip had been conceived as a nostal­ gic homecoming which would help cement Chinese-American ties, in advance of the summit between Deng and Soviet leader Mikhail S. Gorbachev scheduled for mid-May. On the other hand, as a State De­ partment official who was closely involved with the trip later ex­ plained: "Mindful of the whole precedent of Reagan's trip to the Soviet Union, where he had met with dissidents in 1988, Bush wanted to include some of the people who had been speaking out in China." United States officials seemed only dimly aware of how Chinese intellectuals, lacking the ability to make themselves heard at home, looked toward the President's visit as a way to help focus world atten­ tion on China's continuing lack of freedom and democracy. It should hardly have been surprising that these intellectuals would be inclined to place some hope in Bush, the self-proclaimed heir, after all, to Ron­ ald Reagan's legacy of uncompromising anti-. As it turned out, however, the original list of invitees- which FANG LIZHI 29 included several other politically controversial Chinese figures-had not been prepared in Washington, but by , Ambassador Winston Lord's -born wife. Having long taken a keen inter­ est in China's new and more independent intelligentsia, Bette Lord had frequently entertained large numbers of intellectuals at Western­ style gatherings in the Ambassador's residence. In fact, not since "lib­ eration" in 1949 had Beijing seen such an energetic social hostess, and her soirees-complete with disco dancing-had turned the residence into a kind of liberated zone of United States culture in the middle of the People's Republic. The list had finally been approved by Washington, but how far Bush would be willing to take his symbolic gestures of solidarity with dissidents was unknown, and how the Chinese Government would re­ act never seemed to have been adequately considered by American officials. "I knew that the Chinese probably would be irritated," admitted one United States official involved in arranging the trip. "But I did not anticipate a major reaction." As soon as the guest list became public, however, there was in­ deed a "major reaction." Chinese officials began insinuating that the United States had violated protocol by not having "checked" the list with them before issuing invitations. They also let it be known that under the circumstances, Prime Minister Li Peng and President Yang Shangkun might refuse to attend President Bush's farewell banquet. After hailing China's "courageous" economic reforms at the wel­ coming banquet in the , Bush managed only to allude to certain "areas of disagreement" between the United States and China, and spoke only in passing of the need to base future rela­ tions "on respect for the individual as well as the integrity of the state." And the next day, when he met with Prime Minister Li and Deng Xiaoping, he said nothing more about China's distinctly un­ democratic political system, or the human rights violations in . Nor did he challenge General Secretary Zhao Ziyang that afternoon when he found himself being sternly lectured about the "serious conse­ quences" of "some elements in American society who support people who are dissatisfied with the Chinese Government ...." It was not until just hours before the banquet that Bush's silence seemed to be rewarded. Protocol officials on both sides reached a compromise: the Prime Minister and the President of China would attend the Bush barbecue if the Americans promised there would be no mingling during the sit-down dinner, and if those at the head table agreed not to proffer toasts to guests on the floor. 30 CoNTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

Indeed, even at 8:30 that evening, as Perry Link was trying to call the Great Wall Sheraton from David Horley's apartment, the Ameri­ cans, having not yet noticed Fang's absence, thought the compromise had succeeded. It was only after duty officers at the Citizens Services Section of the United States Consulate, where Link had finally gone in desperation, reached the Great Wall Hotel a half-hour later that the White House realized something had gone wrong. By this time, the banquet was ending. Returning to the Horleys' apartment, Fang and Link decided that, since members of the foreign press had now frantically begun telephoning around the city to try to ascertain what had happened to the banquet's most celebrated guest, they should immediately go to the White House press briefing room, which had been set up at the Shan­ gri-La Hotel on the other side of the city. At about 10:30 P.M., hungry, tired and slightly dazed, Fang en­ tered the glittering lobby of the luxurious hotel. It was as if he had crossed a symbolic line. Outside lay the world of the Chinese Commu­ nist Party and its minions from the Public Security Bureau; inside, like the interior of a Faberge egg, lay a miniature and elegant Western world, which tonight was filled with media representatives from every television network in the United States and most major news magazines, wire services and newspapers in the world. It was, in short, an authoritarian government's most nightmarish vision made incarnate: an articulate political dissident loose in the sanctuary of a Western hotel with 300 members of the free press. Ushered to the podium in the grand ballroom, Fang stood bathed in klieg lights between Chinese and American flags, and in broken but steady English responded to questions shouted out to him from the floor. Then, rushed upstairs, he was shuttled back and forth from ABC to NBC, and from CBS to CNN. Responding to questions can­ didly and with great dignity, he held up his Presidential invitation for the cameras, told the world what had happened, spoke both of the humiliation he felt his country had inflicted on itself that night and of his hopes for a new and more democratic China. "What we are calling for is extremely basic, namely, freedom of speech, press, assembly and travel . . . . However, it is easy to see from this incident what the human rights situation is like here in China .... How can I tell you I was not afraid? But since such human rights violations have happened so often here, I am by now somewhat used to them . . . . concepts of human rights and democracy, although the founding principles of the U.S. government, should not be viewed as something exclusively Western. Actually, they are a legacy to the FANG LIZHI 31 world. Only if we view them in this way can progress toward democ­ racy be made around the world. And only if the U.S. acts as a leader can such progress take place." It was strange to watch Fang as he made these rounds, sheltered by an army of interested foreign reporters inside this brightly lit, warm and comfortable hotel. It was momentarily almost possible to forget the reality outside against which Fang was making his protest. But by 2:30 that morning, the brouhaha was over, and Fang once again found himself back in his own precarious world, eating a bowl of noodles in his small, cold, dimly lit apartment. Like many others, Fang waited the next day to see what President Bush's reaction would be to the bizarre hegira which had been forced on him and the Links the night before. But at the airport that morn­ ing, Bush did nothing more than briefly to express "regret" over the affair, ask the United States Ambassador in Beijing to look into the matter, and then fly off to Korea. He left the rest to his press secre­ tary, Marlin Fitzwater, who later that day on board Air Force One told querulous reporters that when it came to China, as far as the United States was concerned, "Human rights is one aspect of the rela­ tionship ... we wouldn't want to say that it is the cornerstone ...." Later on, Bush himself would finally be confronted at a Washing­ ton press conference by a reporter who wondered if the incident meant that the United States would henceforth adopt a policy toward other countries of seeking "harmony rather than confrontation over human rights." "But you know," Bush replied, "there's two schools of how you do the human rights agenda. So, it all depends, you know, what ap­ proach you take. But I think quiet discussion is a good approach to try to effect the human rights objectives that I feel very strongly about." As the President's plane was making its way home, however, scores of reporters back in Beijing trooped up to Fang's apartment for their own post-mortem of the night's events. When they asked a weary Fang if he had been contacted yet by United States diplomats, he said that he had not, admitting that their failure to do so did im­ press him as "a little strange." When informed of Bush's evasive ex­ pression of "regret" at the airport, he said simply, "It is not enough." And then, in his straightforward but understated way, Fang said: "Some say that Bush was too soft .... I will only say that the West should not operate on a double standard by criticizing human rights in the Soviet Union but not in China."

3. PRELUDE TO TIANANMEN-THE REASONS WHY CHINA ERUPTS*

Nicholas D. Kristof

Emperors and eunuchs, warlords and - all have presided over Beijing's Tiananmen Square. Last month was the turn of the hunger strikers. Beginning in late April, 3,000 young people lay nearly comatose on the ground, feeble and sunburned, but galvanizing all of China with their threat to kill themselves rather than live without democracy. Oceans of protesters, more than a million bobbing heads, jostled in and around the vast square, fighting their way forward to read more of the angry red banners calling for the resignation of the senior leader, Deng Xiaoping, and the Prime Minister, Li Peng. When Mr. Deng and Mr. Li responded by imposing martial law, citizens flung themselves in front of army trucks and tanks, stopping and often reversing the long convoys. The soldiers retreated, some of them sobbing as they abandoned their orders to quell the uprising. "Our Government is too harsh to the students," snarled Sun Yong, an army engineer who marched against the government. "The People's Liberation Army belongs to the people, and it is time for every Chi­ nese to speak out." The outlook for China's immediate future is murky, but most Chinese seem to expect that whatever the near-term setbacks, the na­ tion has been set on the road toward less control by the Communist Party. The uprising of the last six weeks, whether it is renewed or repressed, seems to mark a turning point, and it happened with star­ tling, and seemingly inexplicable swiftness. No one predicted that the convulsions would happen when they did, and not even China's most famous savants can safely predict what will happen next. But if the timing and scale of earthquakes is uncertain, at least the fault lines can be mapped. In China, for most of the population, these fault lines - the immediate causes of public dissatisfaction - relate not only to vague yearnings for democracy but, more importantly, to profound economic frustrations and disgust over social inequities and corruption.

• Reprinted by permission of New York Times, Inc., dated November 2, 1989, from The New York Times Magazine, June 4, 1989. (33) 34 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

Before the turbulence, experts looked at China and saw an eco­ nomic miracle - a society that in little more than a decade has man­ aged to propel itself from the bland egalitarian poverty of to the new-found consumerism of color television sets, earrings and disco dancing. During the last 10 years, the average income in China has more than doubled. But the expectations of the Chinese have risen even more. For­ eign analysts see double-digit growth, but the Chinese tend to focus on the washing machine that they can now dream of but still can't afford, the rising prices that seem to cheat them out of their higher salaries, the bribes that they must pay in order to change apartments or, in defiance of official policy, to have a second child. The result is dissatis­ faction and anger, mixed with bitterness at the advantages that high officials enjoy. In April and May, these subterranean pressures finally erupted in the volcano of protest that, whatever happens, has pro­ foundly changed the way China will be governed. If the proximate cause of the rebellion was this festering discon­ tent, the underlying reason was that the Communist Party has been losing its grip on the country. This began long before the demonstra­ tions, and it did not happen overnight; the Party has suffered a pro­ longed erosion of its moral authority - and its ability to intimidate. Throughout the country, the love, fear and awe that the Commu­ nist Party once aroused have collapsed into something closer to dis­ dain or even contempt. Young people used to dream of joining the party; now they often speak condescendingly of their peers who join. "Me? A Party member?" Cheng Lin, a 22-year-old woman who is one of China's best-known pop singers, responded to a reporter's ques­ tion. "Nobody joins the Party now, among young people," she cheer­ fully exaggerated. But it is not only young people who disdain the Party. Just as often it is ordinary working Chinese who undermine its authority, sometimes with an extra dash of daring, or even cruelty - people like Lei Xiding. A small-town peddler, Mr. Lei had tax evasion rather than rebellion on his mind when he took on the Government. Four officials went to his village to make him pay taxes on 46 pigs he had purchased, but Mr. Lei and his family tore up the men's legal papers, robbed them of their watches and locked them in cages with the pigs. Then, according to China's official press, Mr. Lei and his relatives beat the tax collectors for five hours, urinated on them, and paraded them blindfolded through the streets. Eventually, the four men were released, alive - which makes them luckier than some of their colleagues. Since 1985, according to PRELUDE TO TIANANMEN 35

The People's Daily, 13 tax collectors have been murdered, 27 crippled and 6,400 beaten up. Dissidents and student demonstrators have received most of the attention abroad, but among ordinary Chinese the practice of ignoring or defying the Party has become nearly universal. For example, China propounds a "one couple one child" birth-control policy, but in 1987 and 1988, according to Beijing University's Institute of Population Re­ search, Chinese couples could be expected to have an average of 2.45 children. The law also says women must be 20 and men 22 to marry, but as of 1986 (the last year for which the State Family Planning Com­ mission has figures), more than a fifth of all marriages involved at least one partner who was underage; and in some remote areas these illegal marriages account for 90 percent of the total. Though Chinese must have permission to move to another city, Shanghai officials acknowledge that fully 2.5 million of the city's 14.5 million residents have no permission to live there. Waves of illegal migrant laborers are sweeping across China, workers who search for new jobs without waiting to get permission. In February and early March [1989], more than 2.5 million laborers flooded into Canton, ignoring sharp warnings from the Government. Suddenly, the city center was packed with sun-weathered , huddled beside sacks of their belongings -mute testimony, two months before the demon­ strations, to the diminishing control of the Government over the population. Of course, during the last six weeks it was the students who were in the vanguard - as they have been so many times in recent Chinese history. But after they showed the way, many others flocked to fol­ low. Workers defied their bosses to walk alongside the students, citi­ zens from all over Beijing came out to help block the soldiers' entry into the city, and thousands of Chinese journalists signed their names to a petition calling for more press freedom. "The students have shown that the will of the people can't be resisted," said Y an Jiaqi, one of the country's most prominent political scientists. "This is now a dominant idea in Chinese politics." But even as exhilaration swept through the captial in May, among intellectuals and officials especially there was also a lurking tension, a fear that flits in the comers of the mind but takes no obvious shape. To some it is the specter of nationwide anarchy and the disinte­ gration of China as a coherent unit, to others a vision of soaring crime and inflation that might finally shred China's social fabric, transform­ ing the country into an oversized, Oriental Bolivia. It is these fears of spiraling unrest and chaos that seemed to inspire Mr. Deng and Mr. Li 36 CONTEMPORARY ASIAN STUDIES SERIES to crack down on the ; even for many ordinary Chinese there is an apprehension of luan, or chaos. Perhaps it is the pessimism of smart young Chinese, their obvious lack of appreciation for the regime that in the last decade has so palpa­ bly increased their opportunities and material comforts, that most strikes foreigners. Many Chinese hold the somewhat surprising per­ ception that China is in the middle of an economic crisis. True, China's annual inflation rate has passed 25 percent a year, and the country has seen such unfamiliar problems as bank runs and shortages. Bribes and abuse of power are no longer peripheral to the economy; they are the fuel that makes it run. But all countries have graft and economic problems; indeed, some people who have lived on both sides of the Taiwan Straits say that corruption is even more massive on Taiwan. What is more worrying than the economy itself is the perception of crisis. Inflation and cor­ ruption have fueled a sense of economic frustration that lets people convince themselves that they are becoming worse and worse off finan­ cially. Statistically, this is nonsense; even after inflation, the economy is growing at 11 percent a year, and the overwhelming majority is bet­ ter off than it used to be. In strict economic terms, China arguably is modernizing more successfully than any other undeveloped or socialist nation in the world today. But it is suffering a crisis of confidence. The diminishing role of the Communist Party has exacerbated and magnified some of China's economic problems. There is neither a nor a , but an economy that dis­ plays some of the vices of both. Growth is unplanned, so that invest­ ment in energy and infrastructure is inadequate; the result is power cuts and long delays in transporting goods. The lack of planning has led to absurdities. During the last two years, for example, managers at a number of Chinese companies heard that because of the AIDS epi­ demic, there would be a huge growth in world demand for the disposa­ ble rubber gloves used by health-care workers. Though many other countries were already producing such gloves, companies all over China rushed to manufacture them. Today, China alone makes more rubber gloves than the world needs. If there is no planning, neither is there much of a market. Raw materials do not go to the most efficient operator - the one that pre­ sumably would be able to pay the highest price - but to the enterprise with the best connections. Provinces have begun to compete with one another, refusing to allow their raw materials to be processed else­ where. Province, for example, used to produce fine wool and cashmere for processing in Shanghai's mills, but now Xinjiang refuses PRELUDE TO TIANANMEN 37 to let the wool go, processing it in its own newly-opened, crude facto­ ries. Some provinces have stationed armed guards at their borders to prevent raw materials from leaving. Even before the demonstrations, the Party's decline had led to a marked expansion in what Chinese could openly say. People were still afraid, but far less so than before. "In China today, if you don't directly challenge the Party author­ ities, you are basically left alone," said Joseph Y.S. Cheng, a senior lecturer at the Chinese University in Hong Kong. "You can condemn the Party after a couple of glasses of wine and it's all right. As long as you don't take active steps, as long as you're not a threat to the Gov­ ernment, you're left alone." Now, after the demonstrations have shown that massive numbers of people are willing to take on the Government, the difficulty in in­ timidating the masses may become more acute. "There will be a less­ totalitarian society," Mr. Cheng predicts. "People will have more freedom." As the Party's power declines, some Chinese find historic paral­ lels in the disintegrating dynasties of imperial China, such as the cor­ rupt early in this century, which stubbornly refused to modernize until it was too late. Perhaps there is something to those parallels, but there are other scenarios: the rise of Taiwan just when its leadership was most discredited; the rise of Hong Kong just as the embargo of China seemed about to extinguish the col­ ony's economy. It is clear, in short, that, whatever the result of struggles at the top, the Party is losing control, and many Chinese intellectuals despair that the worst is yet to come. But though such despair may well have its own consequences, it is not yet clear if it is warranted. The withering of the Party can be seen most poignantly in the generation gap that has emerged in China today. Many successful young Chinese business executives and Government officials are. chil­ dren of "old revolutionaries," men and women who joined the Com­ munist Party in the 1930's or 40's and fought their way to power. The parents devoted their lives to the Party, but the children are ideologi­ cal atheists. Over dinner recently, in the company of an old revolu­ tionary and his American-educated son, the son was asked if he was a Party member. The son laughed, his expression a mixture of horror and astonishment. "Which Party?" he asked. His father laughed too, but there was pain in his eyes. It is not just the younger generation that sees things differently. Consider , a former English teacher and interpreter for 38 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

Mao Zedong and the widow of former Foreign Minister . In 1976, in a speech to the , Mr. Qiao earned fame for his stinging attack on the United States. But Ms. Zhang surprises anyone expecting to meet a genuine fire­ breathing Maoist. Behind the charming conversationalist is a thoughtful woman profoundly aware of the quandaries of Chinese Communism. "My generation was very inspired by the revolution," Ms. Zhang recalled. "When my friends and I get together, we miss the good old days. Life then wasn't so comfortable, but there was a tremendous sense of honesty and pitching in for the common good." Yet if Ms. Zhang can wax nostalgic for the exhilarating days in the early 1950's, when Communism really did seem to be the answer, not the problem, she also acknowledges that those days are past. Many Chinese, she says, now dream of a future that is not necessarily socialist, and they want a more democratic atmosphere. Looking at the state of Communism in China today, she has misgivings. "I'm worried about whether all this corruption will be difficult to correct without big change," she said. And then she spoke most poignantly about the drift to America of many of China's young peo­ ple. Her own daughter, sent to the United States in the mid-1970's by Mao Zedong to learn English and help the motherland, now lives in New York. "To see them all settling down over there and not coming back is somewhat depressing," Ms. Zhang said. "My daughter, my niece, and the children of almost all my friends. Almost every time a young per­ son comes by my house to say goodbye, I have the feeling they're not coming back." Throughout Chinese history there has been an ebb and flow of central control. Typically, a vigorous leader proclaimed himself em­ peror and established a dynasty. He pulled the country together, strengthened central authority, eliminated rivals for power; but, just as typically, his descendants proved less adept at maintaining it and the nation gradually disintegrated again until - perhaps hundreds of years later - a new emerged as emperor and founded an­ other dynasty. Some see the same process happening now. They liken Mao Zedong - who founded the People's Republic in 1949 and changed more people's lives in more ways than perhaps anyone else in this cen­ tury- to the first man to rule unified China, the first Qin emperor. Known as Di, he was one of the greatest and fiercest of them all. He unified China in 221 B.C., protecting it by PRELUDE TO TlANANMEN 39 linking various short segments of a wall into the Great Wall. that still stands. He standardized China's system of laws and of wetghts and measures burned books, and buried Confucian scholars alive. Ac­ cording to legend, he defied his advisers and tried to build a bridge across the Pacific Ocean. The first Qin emperor predicted that his dy­ nasty would last 10,000 generations; instead, less than four years after his death, his dynasty collapsed. Mao Zedong was not opposed to comparisons with the first Qin emperor, and the similarities are indeed striking. Both were great, im­ petuous and brutal leaders, and the work of both men's lives began to be rapidly undone soon after their deaths. The question now is whether the Communist dynasty will crumble like the Qin or whether it will evolve into something more humane and practical. Mao said that "political power grows from the barrel of a gun," but in Chinese history it has also grown out of the "" - a kind of moral authority to rule. In the long run, the Communist Party relies not only on guns but also on some consensus that it provides a legitimate government. In recent years this moral legitimacy dissipated, not only because ordinary people became embittered by the inflation, corruption and injustice around them, but because fewer and fewer people believed in Marxism. The Cultural Revolution of the late 1960's and early 70's turned much of the nation away from Communism, and though many were willing to give it a second chance when Mr. Deng took the helm in 1978, in China today there is remarkably little faith in Communism. Even Party members do not usually believe in it in any traditional or meaningful way; rather, the believers talk about the need for social justice[,] and populist rule. They sound more like American democrats than communists. The result is an ideological vacuum. Ironically, these are the same factors that led to the collapse of the Nationalist regime in 1949, when the Communists emerged victo­ rious in China's civil war. It was also corruption and inability to mod­ ernize that doomed the Qing Dynasty, forcing the last emperor to abdicate early in 1912. Many intellectuals see a common thread in the disintegration of the three regimes: "Absolute power corrupts absolutely," as a poster in a demonstration last month noted, quoting Lord Acton. China has never had any independent institution, such as a strong parliament or a free press, or even an organized church, that could dilute this abso­ lute power, that could supervise the country's leaders and check their hubris. That is one reason intellectuals are so enthusiastic about free- 40 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES dom of the press: they see it as an independent mechanism that can restore some balance and control to the exercise of power in China. The Party's decline has been hastened by structural changes in the economy and society that have given people more room to maneu­ ver. Before, every Chinese was under the strict supervision of the "work units" and "neighborhood committees" that regulated every as­ pect of life, to the point of charting women's menstrual cycles to get early warning of a pregnancy. Now, independent business people have no "work unit" to control them, and in the countryside the have been disbanded, so there is less authority over peasants as well. All this has fostered a new sense of freedom, a giddy sense of ; Big Brother is no longer peering over one's shoulder. This breakdown of authority could worsen as a new generation takes power. Mr. Deng, the senior leader, was no longer regarded by most Chinese as a hero or savior, even before the declaration of mar­ tial law. But to many people that hardline step rendered him a tragic figure whose enormous achievements have now been undermined by his inclination to whim and hubris and repression. Even so, this 5- foot, 84-year-old bridge player, probably the only world statesman in recent years with a taste for dog meat, remains a giant, the last Chi­ nese leader of the , and the last civilian to have enjoyed unequivocal military support, although now he may have lost even that. As events unfold, more and more young Chinese fear a return of the chaos and weakness that plagued China from the First War in 1840 to the collapse of the Nationalist regime in 1949. Wu Jialang, a prominent Communist Party theorist, is blunt about the risks: "I think China is falling into chaos," he said during a recent in­ terview. Mr. Wu's prescription to avoid the plunge is "neo-authorita­ rianism," a theory that many Chinese officals, including Mr. Deng, endorsed. Supporters of neo- emphasize the need for order and stability, and point to the economic miracles achieved by the authoritarian regimes in Taiwan and . Mr Wu's ver­ sion also emphasizes the need for the Government to respect individ­ ual human rights, but the style of government would amount to enlightened and benevolent despotism. Mr. Wu and others prescribe such a system partly because they see a growing risk of urban unrest. As China's labor unions become more independent and workers more indignant, their discontent could boil over. One immediate challenge is the desperate shortage of cash in the hands of the central Government and state-owned companies. The official press has already acknowledged that some larger state PRELUDE TO TIANANMEN 41

companies are unable to pay workers more than 40 percent of their wages. According to a People's Daily report in April, workers in a large Province factory responded by beating their bowls in the factory cafeteria and singing the "lnternationale," the song of revolu­ tion. During the May demonstrations, many workers went on strike to support the students, and it may be only a matter of time before workers stage walkouts to back their economic demands as well. Further urban unrest might also be triggered by young workers and the unemployed who congregate in many cities, looking . for trouble. On April 22, in the cities of and Xian, they took advantage of student protests to riot, burning and looting whatever they could find. A Shanghai diplomat said that city, too, was combus­ tible, and noted that the authorities had recently moved hundreds of thousands of young migrant laborers away from the city to reduce the danger of clashes. The risks of rural unrest are probably lower, but in a country with a tradition of revolts, they cannot be ignored. The im­ poverished Government has recently been unable to pay peasants for their grain, and other products, and instead has been giving them white slips of paper as i.o.u.'s. Peasants in several areas have vowed that they will not sell their produce to the Government again, except for cash, and there could be confrontations during the summer harvest. Some young Chinese expect the country to fragment, sometime during the next century, into competing provinces or military regions. Most foreign China watchers are not so pessimistic; they think it far more likely that China will thrive and become a strong and essential member of the international community. "My problem is that I cut my teeth on China during the Cultural Revolution," says Harry Harding, a China scholar at the Brookings Institution in Washington. "There was tremendous social and polit­ ical unrest in society, you had even stronger regional fragmentation, and yet it held together." Mr. Harding argues that many Chinese tend to overdramatize the risks, noting that the inflation rate of about 27 percent would inspire jealousy in Brazil, and that the student protes­ ters are apple-polishing school-children, compared to the South Ko­ rean militants. Not everything is known about what Soviet President Mikhail S. Gorbachev discussed with Mr. Deng during their summit meeting in mid-May, but they could have commiserated with each other over the difficulties of opening up socialist systems. By any normal standard Mr. Gorbachev's problems are greater: Russians number only halfth~ 42 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

Soviet population, several republics probably would like to go their own way, and the economy has been so numbed by state controls that it is scarcely responding to restructuring. In China, on the other hand, the economic problems are not those of stagnation, but of dynamism - overheated growth, to be more precise - and separatist tendencies are confined to peripheral regions, such as Tibet and Xinjiang. Perhaps the most startling difference, however, is that the and in the Soviet Union seemed to trickle down mostly from above, but in China they bubbled up mostly from the grass roots. Beginning in the late 1970's, for example, peasants themselves divided up the vast communes before the Government could get around to the task. In recent years, entrepreneurs started up tens of thousands of small businesses even before it was clear that they were legal. In the Soviet Union, political change came at the initiative of Mr. Gorbachev; in China, such changes came at the initiative of intellectu­ als inside and outside of the party who forced the leadership grudg­ ingly to retreat. This process will be extremely difficult to reverse. It would be difficult for the Party to get a grip even on its own scattered units. Today, the Party central committee makes pro­ nouncements in Beijing, and local Party organizations look the other way. When people talk about the Party losing power, in part what they mean is that the Communist Party as a coherent, centralized or­ gan has lost power. Indeed, the local units have in some cases in­ creased their power by snapping up the decision-making authority that Beijing was trying vainly to pass on to individual industrial companies. China's leaders may try to recover a measure of their economic and political authority, but it will be extremely difficult. , a student leader at Beijing University, says that even if he is eventually arrested, others will take his place. Perhaps he is right, for the student protests have exacerbated the sense of weakness in the Party, while emboldening people throughout China who are embittered by corruption and lack of control over their own lives. During one recent demonstration, a young Government official emerged from his office to stand with the students and support them. He gazed at the endless river of young men and women, as mighty as the and as central to the nation's future. "Now," he murmured, "the Chinese have minds of their own." 4. THE STRATEGIES OF THE STUDENT DEMOCRACY MOVEMENT IN BEIJING

Marsha L. Wagner•

I. THE CAMPUS MOOD BEFORE APRIL 15, 1989 China's college students knew in advance that 1989 would be an important year, but they did not anticipate that it would be a major turning point in Chinese history. None of the issues that sparked the December 1986 student demonstrations had been resolved; in fact, with steeply rising double-digit inflation, conditions on China's univer­ sity campuses had worsened. Pleas to the central government for ad­ ditional support for higher education seemed to fall on deaf ears; in fall 1988 rumors circulated that Chinese Communist Party General Secretary Zhao Ziyang and his economic reform policies were in disfa­ vor among the increasingly powerful hardliners in the Politburo of the Communist Party. Economic reform was associated with cultural lib­ eralization; a signal of the impending crackdown on intellectual free­ dom was the public attack in September, 1988, by conservatives such as Vice President on the six-part television film series Heshang (""), by Xiaokang and others, which had been aired twice during the summer on national television with Zhao Ziyang's personal approval. Intellectuals and students, along with others on fixed salaries, bore the brunt of the economic hardship. Their bitterness was exacer­ bated by watching government leaders enjoy free access to luxurious transportation and commodities, as well as privileges for their family members; private entrepreneurs get rich from profiteering on the black market; and guandao-Party officials obtaining goods, often illicitly, at an artificially low fixed state price and reselling them at a high profit on the open market. In his "New May Fourth Manifesto," student leader Wuer Kaixi represented general student opinion in identifying the following grievances: At present, our country is plagued with problems such as a bloated government bureaucracy, serious corruption, the de-

• The author is a sinologist who spent the 1988-89 academic year, with support of the Committee for Scholarly Exchange with the People's Republic of China, researching a book on contemporary Chinese fiction. She lived on the campus of Beijing University and had daily contact with university students and faculty from August 25, 1988, until June 6, 1989. (43) 44 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

valuation of intellectual work, and inflation, all of which se­ verely impede us from intensifying the reforms and carrying out modernization. 1 In the eyes of the students, corruption represented a barrier to the development of . The graduate student dropout rate took a dramatic jump in fall 1988; faced with a future of barely subsistence wages and nearly intol­ erable living conditions as college teachers, many of China's best and brightest chose instead to strike out on their own, devoting their ener­ gies to wrangling visas to the United States, using "back doors" to secure positions in international companies in China, or simply arous­ ing the envy of their classmates by turning a tidy profit selling blue jeans and sunglasses from roadside carts. Selfishness, corruption, petty thievery and dishonesty seemed rampant; older Chinese la­ mented that the sterling revolutionary values of the and 1950s had become so gravely tarnished. The students who remained on campus were largely apathetic and cynical. They joked that the most popular "factions" were those who played cards and mahjong all the time (the mapai, a pun on "Marxist faction") and those who did nothing but study for the TOEFL exam as an escape route (the tuopai, a pun on "Trotskyite faction"). Depression verging on suicidal paralysis was very common: unable to believe in the nationalistic and Maoist myths of China's greatness, despairing about the future, many students wondered whether life was worth living. The lyrics to popular rock singer 's songs, such as "," captured this mood. Other students felt that only a major change in Chinese society would make life worthwhile, and a few of these students were willing to risk their status at prestigious universities to organize political activities. They set as their goal a student demonstration on the seventieth anni­ versary of the , the 1919 patriotic, anti-imperi­ alist street protests by students at Beijing University demanding modernization of China through science and democracy. Wang Dan, a history major at Beijing University, was one of the young student leaders who in late 1988 and early 1989 organized "de­ mocracy salons," informal gatherings of students on a lawn of the uni­ versity campus to discuss such topics as school conditions,

1. Wuer Kaixi's speech, read at Tiananmen Square on May 4, 1989, is translated in full in Han Minzhu and Hua Sheng, eds., Cries for Democracy: Writings and Speeches from the 1989 Chinese Democracy Movement, Princeton, : Press, 1990, pp. 135-137. STUDENT DEMOCRACY MOVEMENT 45

modernization in Taiwan and Hong Kong, western political systems and individual rights. Other universities in Beijing-including Qinghua, People's University, and Beijing Normal University, held similar activities, though on a smaller scale. Some "salons" to which foreign visitors were explicitly invited were deliberately held off cam­ pus because the foreign involvement made them even more sensitive. But the organizers felt it was vital for their classmates to be exposed to new ideas and to learn about living under alternative political systems. The speakers at these meetings might be students or intellectuals in­ vited from off-campus; they would be encircled by dozens of students who would eagerly ask them questions or counter their arguments. Early in 1989, government and Party officials-also anticipating illegal activities on May Fourth-acted both constructively and preventively. Attempting to co-opt student enthusiasm, they organ­ ized a series of official commemorations of the 1919 student protests. At the same time, they stepped up security, including checking passes of visitors entering the university gates and denying permission for certain dissidents to speak on campus. On April3, Wang Dan and 55 other students boldly put up on the bulletin board in the central "Tri­ angle" area on the Beijing University campus a poster responding to university officials' harassment of their activities. Addressed to the university president, Party secretary, Party committee, department of student affairs and youth league committee, the students' open letter began affirmatively, in patriotic language that would characterize much of the democracy movement: This year marks the seventieth anniversary of the May Fourth Movement. As the birthplace of this extraordinary movement of democratic enlightenment, Beijing University has always held high the banners of democracy and science and marched at the very forefront of our nation's progress. Today, as Chinese commemorate the May Fourth Move­ ment, we, students of Beijing University, the hallowed ground of democracy, continue to hope that we will be able to carry on the distinguished tradition of Beijing University. 2 Couched in conciliatory terms emphasizing the continuity of a proud national revolutionary tradition and the importance of maintaining "school stability and unity," the open letter went on to propose only local liberalization, not sweeping political change: We should begin by working hard to improve the democratic

2. Translation from Han and Hua, supra note 1, pp. 16-17, with commentary. 46 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

environment in school. It is our belief that in institutions of higher learning, such as Beijing University, there should be full freedom of speech and academic freedom. . . . Beginning last semester and continuing today, from Activity Room 430 in Building 43 to the "democracy lawn" in front of the statue of Cervantes, thirteen democracy salons have been spontane­ ously organized by students concerned with the future of the country and the Chinese nation. These salons have provided the students with excellent opportunities for the exchange of ideas as well as for theoretical discussions. Recently, how­ ever, a few salons have run into interference from the Beijing Municipal Party committee, the Party Committee of the University, the Security Department, and the Party branch in every academic department. Some students have also been personally subject to considerable pressure from au­ thorities. We believe that these salons offer an opportunity to explore spontaneously various ideas; such forums greatly help to enliven the academic atmosphere and promote the exchange of ideas. 3 Finally, the students requested the university to take steps to protect their freedom of speech, such as removing all types of pressure, grant­ ing them freedom to invite P.articipants, allowing them the use of the regular meeting place, and not preventing the student organizers from receiving diplomas. Though polite in tone, the April 3 poster was a direct challenge to the authorities that foreshadowed the confronta­ tions to come in the next few weeks: the Party's surveillance of the democracy salons and of the students' activism indicates they were intolerant of this kind of open discussion. The students must have known how much the broader political climate would have to change before their demands for freedom of speech could be granted, yet the relative success of the first thirteen democracy salons, support from their teachers, sympathy of the university president, and reinforce­ ment from leading intellectuals from outside the university gave them some grounds for optimism. Inspiration for students to boldly demand these freedoms was provided by some distinguished older and middle-aged intellectuals. In January, word spread like wildfire that respected astrophysicist and audacious anti-Marxist Fang Lizhi, who had been expelled from the Party in January 1987, had written a public letter to Deng Xiaoping, asking that in this year of the fortieth anniversary of the founding of

3. Ibid., pp. 17-18. STUDENT DEMOCRACY MOVEMENT 47 the PRC, the seventieth anniversary of the May Fourth Movement, and the two hundredth anniversary of the French Revolution, a gen­ eral national pardon be granted to Wei Jingsheng and other political prisoners.4 Wei Jingsheng was the author of several famous essays from the Democracy Wall period, including "The Fifth Moderniza­ tion- Democracy," who was arrested in March 1979 and was re­ ported to be suffering from mental illness after serving ten years of his fifteen-year prison sentence under particularly harsh conditions. 5 Fang Lizhi's appeal was especially disturbing to Deng Xiaoping and other officials for several reasons: it asserted the existence (which the government denies) of Chinese political prisoners; it emphasized hu­ manitarian action and human rights (which the government claims are culturally relative) as a universal concern of mankind; and it men­ tioned by name the activist Wei Jingsheng for whom Deng Xiaoping is reported to have a special antipathy. Moreover, since Fang Lizhi and his wife Li Shuxian had been speakers at the Beijing University de­ mocracy salons, their relationship with the students was particularly close, and thus their influence on students alarmed the government. 6 To underscore the significant impact of Fang Lizhi's open letter, in February a group of thirty-three leading intellectuals, mostly from literary circles-six of whom (Wu Zuxiang, , Yue Daiyun, Zhang Dainian, Huang Ziping, and Pingyuan) were faculty at Beijing University, organized by the well-known poet Bei Dao, signed

4. The translation of the full text of Fang Lizhi's letter appears in Han and Hua, supra note 2, pp. 24-25. The original is reprinted in Jiushi Niandai (The Nineties), no. 229, 1989.2, p. 18. Copies of this and other intellectuals' petitions are in the China 1989 De­ mocracy Movement Archive at the C.V. Starr East Asian Library at Columbia University and in similar archives at , Harvard, and other universities. 5. On Fang Lizhi, see the essay by Orville Schell in this volume; on Wei Jingsheng, see Hungdah Chiu's essay in this volume. 6. In the Chinese political system, certain kinds of executive and administrative power are granted to the state government, while the Party's power is in ideological guidance and policy setting. In reality, however, the Party influences and dominates virtually all state matters. Therefore, in this paper I shall use the term "government" loosely-as do most Chinese students--to indicate the entire central political power structure, including both Party and state. Beijing Mayor gave a speech to the Eighth Session of the Seventh Na­ tional People's Congress Standing Committee on June 30, 1989, in which he presented the official version of the history of the students' "turmoil." He placed particular blame on Fang Lizhi as instigator, and indicated that the government had meticulously collected data on Fang's activities, including his close relationship to the Beijing University "democ­ racy salons." The speech was published in Renmin Ribao (People's Daily), July 7, 1989, pp. 2-3; a full translation appears in Yi Mu and Mark V. Thompson, Crisis at Tiananmen: Reform and Reality in Modem China, San Francisco: China Books and Periodicals, 1989, pp. 194-233. 48 CONTEMPORARY ASIAN STUDIES SERIES a petition which echoed Fang's. 7 Copies of these petitions were pub­ lished in Hong Kong and elsewhere, and they were posted on the "Tri­ angle" bulletin boards at Beijing University and on other university campuses, though they were summarily removed by university offi­ cials. At various points during the history of the PRC, individual writers have called on the government to offer more freedom or to change a policy, but this was the first time since 1949 that a group of intellectuals had joined together to petition the government. The Feb­ ruary 13 petition was followed two weeks later by a long petition from forty-two Beijing scientists, and in March by an open letter signed by forty-three humanists (deliberately one more than the scientists' signa­ tories, to symbolize the snowball effect), primarily from the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences. 8

II. APRIL 15-25: RESPONSE TO mE DEAm OF Thus, by early April, tensions were mounting and resentment was seething on university campuses and in intellectual and cultural circles in Beijing. But no one anticipated that the ferment among small groups of students and scholars would quickly be transformed into a national protest movement of unprecedented scope and intensity. The catalyst was the sudden death on Saturday, April15, of Hu Yaobang, former head of the Party, who in January, 1987, had been forced by Deng Xiaoping to resign because of his tolerant attitude toward recent student demonstrations. The students regarded Hu Yaobang not only as a champion of liberalization but also as one of the few top govern­ ment leaders not tainted by official corruption. Within hours of the death of this beloved figure, before official announcements had been made, students on campuses had begun posting elegies. One of the most frequently quoted poems began with the haunting couplet: Those who should have died live, Those who should have lived have died. 9

7. Jiushi Niandai, no. 229, 1989.2, text, p. 18; discussion, pp. 18-27; signatories identi­ fied, p. 19. For a translation of the full text ofthe February 13, 1989, petition, see Han and Hua, supra note 1, p. 25. 8. On the scientists' February 26, 1989, petition see Qian Linzhao et al., "The Open Letter of Forty-two People from Beijing Science Circles," Jiushi Nandai, no. 231, 1989.4, pp. 20ff; on the March 14, 1989, letter initiated by and Su Wei, see "The Open Letter of Forty-three People from Cultural Circles," Jiushi Niandai, no. 231, 1989.4, pp. 25ff. 9. The full text of this long poem, posted at Beijing University, is translated in Han and Hua, supra note 1, pp. 6-8. STUDENT DEMOCRACY MOVEMENT 49

By late afternoon, mourners began to appear in Tiananmen Square bringing wreaths of white paper flowers and streamers of elegiac cou­ plets. This spontaneous gathering at the Monument to the People's Heroes resembled the April 4, 1976, mass demonstrations to mourn the death of Enlai-an event later interpreted as a popular pro­ test against Mao Zedong and the Gang of Four, and the end of the Cultural Revolution. In April, 1989, those who gathered not only mourned Hu Yaobang but also shouted slogans and waved banners calling for more democracy and an end to government corruption. On Monday, April 17, Beijing University students organized a large march to Tiananmen Square that would set off just after mid­ night on the 18th to avoid the interference of authorities; three thou­ sand Beijing University students were joined by several thousand from People's University and elsewhere. In the early morning of the 18th, they attempted to deliver a petition containing seven student demands to a representative of the Standing Committee of the National People's Congress, China's nominal parliament. 10 The seven demands were: 1) reevaluate Hu Yaobang, 2) renounce the 1987 anti-bourgeois liber­ alization campaign and the 1983 anti-spiritual pollution campaign, 3) increase freedom of the press, 4) reveal the salaries and net worth of Party and government leaders and their families, 5) rescind the Beijing municipal government's ban on public demonstrations; 6) increase state funding for higher education, and 7) provide objective news cov­ erage of the current student demonstrations. 11 The students were frus­ trated and angry when only a deputy bureau chief was willing to appear and accept their petition-agreeing to convey it to the higher bodies. This event was important in that it established a pattern to be repeated again and again in the weeks to come: the students appeal to the government, following constitutionally sanctioned channels but asking for more than the officials are willing to grant, and the leaders refuse to meet with the students or acquiesce to any of their demands. Many of the students' suspicions that the government was not acting in good faith also date from this occasion of unresponsiveness. During the week of April 17-21 there were daily gatherings at Tiananmen. On the nights of April 19 and 20, student demonstrators assembled at Xinhuamen, the main gate of the Chinese Communist Party compound, , demanding democracy and freedom. Their demands this week were radical, and included "Down with die-

10. An account of this early-morning march is translated from a big-character poster by a student eye-witness at People's University, in Han and Hua, supra note 1, pp. 11-12. 11. For more details on these demands, see Han and Hua, supra note 1, pp. 9-10. 50 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES tatorship!" "Oppose tyranny!" "Strictly punish government profiteer­ ing by officials!" and "Long live rule by law!" As in the case of the seven demands, freedom of the press was a major concern of the stu­ dents, and many of their slogans attacked government control of the media: "People's Daily cheats the people!" " tells lies!" Enlightenment Daily is not enlightened!" "CCTV [Chinese Central Television] reverses black and white!" 12 Students claimed that they were beaten by police wielding clubs in the early morning of April 20th; the government denied this and counter-claimed that only po­ licemen were injured by unruly protestors. Angry at the reports of police brutality, posters with red characters "blood"-reportedly writ­ ten with blood-began to appear at Beijing University, and a boycott of classes began on Friday, April 21, and gathered momentum over the weekend, until a full-fledged strike against classes had been organ­ ized in every department by Monday, the 24th. 13 The official service for Hu Yaobang was scheduled for Saturday morning, April 22, and the authorities, wanting Tiananmen Square to be free of demonstrators for this event, declared that the Square would be sealed off by early morning. However, thousands of students streamed from the university district in the northwest of the city to Tiananmen Square on Friday night and succeeded in occupying the Square before the security forces had prepared to remove them. Thousands of older residents who lined the neighborhood streets and watched the students courageously marching into likely confrontation with the police recalled the brutal dispersal of crowds during the "Tiananmen Incident" of 1976 and were deeply moved. Ordinary citi­ zens showed their support by providing the students with tea, soda, ice cream sticks, cigarettes, bread and donations of money. At Tiananmen Square, an uneasy truce was arranged, and the 200,000 demonstrators who had gathered were allowed to occupy a section of the Square during the official memorial ceremony, in effect holding an alternative "people's memorial" outside the Great Hall of the People. Thus another precedent was set, establishing a credibility gap that would affect the students' strategy in the ensuing weeks: the govern­ ment was not able to carry out its threat of preventing an action when they were overwhelmed by large numbers of demonstrators. After the termination of the state memorial service, students in the Square chanted for Li Peng, the head of the government, to come

12. A photograph of a poster listing these witty slogans is reprinted, with a caption translating the wordplay, in Yi Mu and Thompson, supra note 6, following p. 54. 13. Photographs by the author of big-character posters, now in the China 1989 Democ­ racy Movement Archive of the C.V. Starr East Asian Library at Columbia University. STUDENT DEMOCRACY MOVEMENT 51 out and recognize them. He never appeared, but three students passed through the lines of police guards and knelt for about forty-five min­ utes on the steps of the Great Hall of the People in a dramatic gesture echoing the manner in which petitions were presented to China's em­ perors in the dynastic periods. As on April 18, there was no response from the leadership to this humble appeal. Student reaction was mixed, and the differing views prefigured some of the controversy over tactics which would follow during the next weeks. Some found the students' gesture solemn and moving, and the cold unresponsiveness of the leaders provided evidence that they no longer had any con­ science or desire to . Others found the entire event a charade; they believed the grieving of top officials like Deng Xiaoping who had ousted Hu Yaobang hypocritical, and declared the students' act of kneeling to them futile. A more radical group felt the students' petitioning was humiliating, a sacrifice of self-respect and human dig­ nity not appropriate in the 1980s: "What a self-mockery to use a feu­ dal method of expression in a struggle for democracy in present-day China! And what powerlessness and impotence it implies!" 14 After the outpouring of support for the April 22 alternative me­ morial for Hu Yaobang, events took on a momentum of their own. In fact, the students were faced with a social movement that had sprung up spontaneously, which they had not entirely created or controlled. There was no clear leadership, and the goals-such as more democ­ racy and freedom of speech-were vague. During the week before the Hu Yaobang memorial service, the official student unions, with repre­ sentatives appointed by the Party to oversee official student activities, had been attacked as nonrepresentative, and on April 20 an announce­ ment was made that the autonomous Beijing University Students' Soli­ darity Committee had been established. Announcements of similar autonomous student unions at People's University, Qinghua, Beijing Aeronautics Institute and other campuses soon followed. On April 22 the citywide autonomous Provisional Students' Federation of Capital Universities and Colleges was established. It in turn transmitted a let­ ter to schools across the country, and a National Federation of Auton-

14. April22, 1989, poster of the Geology Department, in Han and Hua, supra note 1, pp. 64-65. The same book also includes a translation of a big-character poster written by graduate students of Beijing University honoring the moving spectacle of the students sub­ mitting the petition, and attacking the government: "Your actions have deeply wounded the hearts of a generation. Your actions have demonstrated to the entire world that you are a bureaucracy opposed to democracy and freedom. But there will come a day when history will mete out just punishment for your ruthless actions" (pp. 63-64). 52 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES omous Students Unions of Universities and Colleges was formed. 15 However, these hastily organized federations were initially preca­ rious, and none of them achieved enduring stability. Leaders were necessarily self-appointed because only a small group of students were actually willing to be nominated to take the spotlight, since they knew that this kind of illegal organizing meant risking their university de­ grees, job assignments, chances of travel abroad, and personal freedom for as long as there was an individual dossier to follow them through life. Not all the self-styled leaders had the strong support of the stu­ dents, and there was throughout the movement sporadic jockeying for position. Moreover, most of the communication among campuses took place through the inefficient means of student messengers riding bicycles; the significant coordination that was achieved overcame daunting obstacles, including unavoidable delays, crossed communica­ tions, inexperience, and interference from Party watchdogs. On April 24, students at Beijing University called for a mass meeting of all the students at the school, at the appropriately named May Fourth Athletic Field. Mass gatherings at stadiums and athletic fields were common phenomena during the Cultural Revolution; wav­ ing little red books and shouting quotations of Chairman Mao, huge crowds were whipped into a frenzy of unified revolutionary fervor. If such unity was the goal of the students who organized the May 24 mass meeting, they could not have been more disappointed. The mill­ ing crowds could not hear or would not listen to the speakers; various self-appointed student leaders vied for control of the bullhorns; soon the students dispersed in dissatisfaction or disgust or at the factional­ ized in-fighting and lack of clear leadership. This was an important turning point, for it was the last time such a mass meeting was held on campus--except for the gatherings of hunger strikers later at Tiananmen Square, alternative means of organization took their place. The new student leaders, who themselves had been brought up to be passive and obedient, not to take initiative or to lead, rapidly devel-

15. The precise dates of the founding of the students' autonomous organizations is diffi­ cult to pinpoint. One source records that as early as April 22, it was reported in Tiananmen Square that the previous evening, April 21, a Beijing Students' Federation had been established, see Wu Muran et al., eds., 89 Zhongguo Minyun Jishi (Daily Reports on the Movement for Democracy in China: April15-June 24, 1989, Hong Kong: 1989, Vol. 1, p. 27. The editorial commentary interspersed among translations of primary documents in Han and Hua, supra note 1, gives a good account of the development and modification of student organization and leadership during the movement. Lee Feigon's China Rising: The Meaning ofTiananmen (Chicago: Ivan R. Dee, Inc., 1990) points out interesting con­ trasts in style and ideology among student organizations from different campuses, espe­ cially People's University and Beijing University. STUDENT DEMOCRACY MOVEMENT 53 oped leadership skills and learned quickly that a democratic move­ ment needed new strategies. Yet inexperience and inadequate preparation time plagued the movement relentlessly. The next day, students met to elect representatives from each de­ partment. The practice of assigning dormitory rooms by department facilitates classmates' assembling by discipline, and many of these stu­ dent gatherings in the dormitories resembled mini-town meetings or spontaneous study groups. The theory was that student representa­ tives from each department could in tum elect representatives for the entire campus. This ratification process gave more authority to the newly formed autonomous student group, and similar procedures were followed at other campuses. However, there were many forces work­ ing against a systematic execution of this model. Not all students were willing to even attend a meeting that would unofficially "elect" "repre­ sentatives" to an illegal group; since assuming leadership was so per­ sonally dangerous, many "candidates" "ran" unopposed, and in some cases anyone who dared to make a speech automatically became rec­ ognized as a "leader." The intense external pressure, fear of spies, emotionalism, and lack of agreed-upon procedural guidelines caused more than one of these meetings to degenerate into chaos. At Qinghua students openly split over whether or not to accept a government offer to meet with selected students. It is not difficult to find explanations for passivity, disorganiza­ tion, internal conflicts, and leadership crisis in the spring 1989 student democracy movement; what is actually more challenging is to account for how-under these extremely trying and threatening circum­ stances-the students were able to organize themselves as effectively as they did. By Wednesday, April 26, the autonomous Provisional Students Federation of Capital Universities and Colleges announced at their initial press conference that forty universities and institutes in the capital of Beijing had joined their umbrella group. They proposed three new demands, saying that students would return to class as soon as the government would discuss and give reasonable answers to these key points: 1) a dialogue between students and government leaders, 2) an investigation of the April 20 police beating of students, and 3) an apology from the official news agency for the distorted reporting of the student movement and a guarantee "that the press will speak the truth and report fairly from now on."16

16. A big-character poster signed by the Provisional Students' Federation of Capital Universities and Colleges and dated April26, that appeared at People's University, summa­ rized this press conference (see Han and Hua, supra note 1, pp. 72-73). 54 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

Meanwhile, many of the striking students were out in the streets, putting up posters and passing out handbills to the citizens of Beijing explaining the goals of the student movement and offering the stu­ dents' own version of events that had taken place and had been mis­ construed in the official media. In approaching the common citizens, students instinctively stressed issues and attitudes that would be most likely to gain their support: non-violence, selfless idealism, patriotism, and loyalty to the Four Cardinal Principles. 17 From soliciting finan­ cial donations, students knew how deep was their support from the ordinary people, who were also angry about official corruption and economic hardships. On one streetcorner in the , for example, on April 24 students who were explaining the goals of their movement to passersby collected 2,464.38 yuan in a four-hour period, including three 100-yuan notes: this is a huge sum (equivalent to U.S. $665) for a population with virtually no disposable income and often unable to meet escalating prices of fruit and vegetables. 18 Thus, in spring 1989 the students managed to bridge the gap between China's well-educated elite and the masses of the people-a gap that persisted through the centuries of traditional imperial Chinese society, and con­ tinued as a problem Mao Zedong tried repeatedly to resolve, through extreme but ultimately futile measures.

III. APRIL 26-MAY 11: RESPONSE TO THE APRIL 26 EDITORIAL AND THE MAY FOURTH MOVEMENT ANNIVERSARY On April 22, the day of Hu Yaobang's memorial service, not only

17. The Four Cardinal Principles are adherence to the socialist path, the leadership of the Communist Party, Marxism-Leninism-Mao Zedong Thought, and the people's demo­ cratic dictatorship. The students accurately assessed the common concerns of the ordinary people, as con­ firmed by an informal survey conducted in early May by young teachers in the psychology department at Beijing Normal University of 865 Beijing residents, which found that 95.4% either "strongly supported" or were sympathetic to the student demonstrations, while only 4.7% believed the government assertions that a handful of troublemakers "behind the scenes" were causing instability. (Elsewhere, citizens expressed support for the students because they believed their goals were unselfish.) The demands the students emphasized were well received by the largely young, well-educated people polled: 85% felt a dialogue with the government was both reasonable and important, 69% expressed confidence the demonstrations would stimulate democratic reform, and 71% believed corruption was the main cause of instability in China. See Seth Faison, "Poll Shows Support for Demonstra­ tions," Morning Post, May 12, 1989, pp. 1, 12. 18. Reported in a big-character poster at Beijing University; from a photograph by the author, now in the China 1989 Democracy Movement Archive ofthe C.V. Starr East Asian Library at Columbia University. STUDENT DEMOCRACY MOVEMENT 55

were 200,000 Beijing students and residents demonstrating ~n Tiananmen Square, but smaller demonstrations had taken place m Shanghai, , , Xian, and other cities around the country. Party leaders felt they could no longer ignore the students' movement or wait for it to die out. The Standing Committee of the Politburo convened a meeting on April 24 at which they ordered that telephone lines to Beijing University dormitories be cut and telegrams from cam­ pus to campus across the country be blocked. The next day, Li Peng and Yang Shangkun met with Deng Xiaoping, who insisted that they must "take a firm stand ... in opposing and ending this turmoil." 19 Secretary Zhao Ziyang, away on a to , did not attend this meeting, and there was apparently no objection to Deng's directive. On April 26, the official Renmin Ribao (People's Daily) ran a front-page editorial which became solidified as the official government position for the duration of the movement and its suppression. The language of the editorial is important not only because the Party rig­ idly adhered to it for the following months, but also because students' opposition to and resolve to contradict the editorial determined their strategy from its publication until mid-May. According to the Peo­ ple's Daily, there had been no peaceful, patriotic student appeal for democratic reform in the government. On the contrary, "an extremely small number of people with ulterior motives" used deceit and rumors "to slander, insult, and attack leaders of the Party and state." They "blatantly violated the Constitution, and encouraged opposition to the leadership of the Communist Party and to the socialist system." They used force on campuses to take power from the official student unions, to use the public address systems and to prevent students from going to class. This "extremely small group of people" was trying to destroy the democratic legal system. Their goal was to poison people's minds, to create turmoil throughout the country, to destroy political stability and unity. This was a planned conspiracy, a riot, whose real nature was to funda­ mentally negate the leadership of the Chinese Communist Party and to negate the socialist system. The editorial concluded with dire warnings: all such illegal organiza­ tion must be halted; illegal demonstrations are forbidden, "those who deliberately create rumors and spread slander must be held criminally responsible in accordance with the law. " 20

19. See Han and Hua, supra note 1, p. 83. 20. From the translation of major excerpts of the April 26 front-page People's Daily 56 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

If Party leaders expected that an attack on the students' demon­ strations and appeals for reform, as well as firm threats of reprisal, would end the movement, they badly miscalculated. The People's Daily editorial had the opposite effect: it aroused the students and citizens of Beijing in opposition to the government. The newly organ­ ized autonomous student unions vowed to go ahead with the march to Tiananmen Square planned for the following day, April 27, although they had heard rumors that the 38th Army had already been sum­ moned to remain on the alert outside the city of Beijing. The evening television news showed grimly solemn meetings of Party members in Beijing and Shanghai resolving to carry out Deng's crackdown. The students' apprehension ironically increased their determination to defy the government; they persuaded each other they could prevail if the demonstrators were numerous and united. Parents and teachers came to the student dormitories the night of April 26th. They had heard the government's dire warnings and they were afraid of bloodshed; they tried, often unsuccessfully, to persuade the students to protect their lives by staying on campus. Many students feared the worst and wrote out their wills. At least one carried a small packet of gasoline in his pocket, vowing to immolate himself if he were arrested. On the morning of the 27th, campus loudspeakers ominously blared more warnings: "Stay on campus. Do not go out. Demon­ strating is wrong." "Think of your parents, your teachers, how you will hurt them. Punishments will be severe." "Most students want to go to class. Do not continue the strike. Your duty is to study." Meanwhile, thousands of students prepared to take to the streets. Although the autonomous Qinghua Students Union had broken away from the citywide students' federation in opposition to this demonstra­ tion, thousands of Qinghua students marched south to join students from Beijing University, red flags flying, student monitors holding hands along the sides of the columns to protect the students inside and to keep agent provocateurs out. As these groups merged, their ranks were swollen by representatives from other schools to the northwest; they passed People's University and their numbers increased again. Their lead banner read: "The people love the police. The police love the people." Just beyond People's University, they encountered their first police roadblock. Students gently pressed against the rows of po­ lice with linked arms; crowds of local residents, including workers, who had turned out in support, pushed somewhat less gently, and the editorial in Han and Hua, supra note 1, pp. 84-85. The complete text is translated in Yi Mu and Thompson, supra note 6, pp. 155-157. STUDENT DEMOCRACY MOVEMENT 57

police lines yielded without a fight. At every major intersection all the way to Tiananmen this tactic was repeated; as the students broke through successive police barriers, they felt a jubilant sense of tri­ umph. Only later did it become known that on the evening of the 26th the chief of the Beijing Municipal Public Security Bureau had threatened to step down rather than use force, and finally had insisted that his men not bear arms against the student demonstrators. In a surprise manoeuver, when they arrived at Tiananmen, the demonstrators from thirty-two colleges did not allow themselves to be herded into the Square where they might be surrounded; instead, they continued marching to the east, and circled back along the Second Ring Road to complete a 25-mile course. Crowds of Beijing citizens and workers supported them all the way, with cheers and food. The government was humiliated: the students had refused to be intimi­ dated, and with mass support they had successfully defied the authori­ ties. When the Beijing University students arrived back at the campus about midnight that night, their classmates who had stayed behind gave them a heroes' welcome at the campus gate, with cheering and singing, firecrackers and banging on pots and pans; the official dining halls were opened and the university food staff served the victors a hot meal at 1 a.m. By the next morning, triumphant banners proclaimed "History will never forget April 27."21 Several factors in the students' strategy-along with a lack of willingness of the local police to use force against peaceful demonstra­ tors-account for the success of the April 27 demonstration. The stu­ dents' determination and defiance were daunting in themselves; this courage was palpable and inspired respect among the onlookers. The citizens had already been persuaded by handbills and streetcorner dis­ cussions to sympathize with the students; watching them audaciously take the streets reinforced the spectators' admiration for their move­ ment. The marchers were also extremely well organized and self-disci­ plined, with rows of arm-banded monitors stretching along both sides of the column to maintain security and order. The Provisional Stu­ dents Federation of Capital Universities and Colleges had earlier an­ nounced strict guidelines. According to one spokesman, We have decided to avoid at all costs direct confronta­ tion with the authorities, including the police. We have asked more students to take ,up the responsibility of main­ taining order during demonstrations. Special attention is

21. Author's photograph in the China 1989 Democracy Movement Archive in the C.V. Starr East Asian Library at Columbia University. 58 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

paid to weeding out from our ranks hooligans who have infil­ trated demonstrations for ulterior motives. 22 Moreover, the students were deliberately charming. They over­ whelmed the police "as much with courtesy as with force," and after pushing through a police blockade, ... the demonstrators pause to say, "Thank you, police." A few students are assigned to pick up any shoes lost in the shoving and return them to their owners, be they police or protestors. 23 The students set a moral example of civility that was soon emulated by most of the citizens of Beijing, creating a general atmosphere of public courtesy and mutual respect in sharp contrast to the self-centered hos­ tility that was palpable on Beijing streets before the student movement began. But above all, the students were protected with their highly patri­ otic slogans on April 27. Gone were the radical chants such as "Down with dictatorship!" Instead, the slogans of the day were politically correct, almost as if dictated by the People's Daily April 26th editorial: "Oppose turmoil!" "Oppose violence!" The Provisional Students' Federation had assigned patriotic slogans, including "Support the Communist Party and socialism!" "Pledge to defend the Constitution to the deathl"24 Even chants such as "The people's army protects the people" and "the people love the police"-while obviously serving the immediate interests of the demonstrators-were politically unobjec­ tionable. Moreover, these proper slogans avoided alienating or alarm­ ing the bystanders; on the contrary, many citizens were moved by the students' innocent claim, "Patriotism is not a crime!" For some of the demonstrators, these patriotic slogans were sim­ ply interpreted at face value. They had been brought up to love the Communist Party and though they may have doubted certain policies or practices, most still had not broken their faith. For others, the use of patriotic slogans was a deliberate tactic, a mere shield to hide be­ hind.25 For many, there was probably a certain ironic edge, but they

22. Quoted anonymously in Willy Wo-lap Law, "New Tactics to Cope with Unrest," , April 22, 1989, p. 8. 23. Nicholas D. Kristof, "Beijing Students Keep Doctrine in Their Sights," New York Times, rpt. in International Herald Tribune, May 8, 1989, p. 1. 24. The Provisional Students Federation of Capital Universities and Colleges "unified slogan" list for the April 27 demonstration is translated in Han and Hua, supra note 1, p. 73. 25. With increased pressure just before the crackdown, some students again began to use suggestion rather than uttering a taboo phrase. Michael S. Duke reports that on May STUDENT DEMOCRACY MOVEMENT 59

felt no need to analyze the degree of irony. reported in early May that after two weeks of interviews with dozens of stu­ dents, he concluded that student comments in favor of Communist rule are partly tactical and partly sincere. They wanted to deny the charges of the People's Daily editorial that they intended to overthrow the socialist system and Communist rule, and they "began to wave pro-Communist banners like amulets to ward off the police."26 Fur­ thermore, many Chinese students supported the Communist Party be­ cause they felt there was no viable alternative, that a transition to a multi-party system that they abstractly might favor was unfeasible or premature. Even Wang Dan, organizer of "democracy salons," when asked if he supported the leading role of the Communist Party in China, replied, " 'You can say I support correct leadership by the Communist Party,' emphasizing the word 'correct.' " 27 (When Beijing University students carrying a banner that read, "We resolutely sup­ port the correct leadership inside the Party," were asked which leaders 28 were correct, one of them responded, "None." ) Nevertheless, most students interviewed insisted that they still had faith in the Commu­ nist Party, they just wanted to encourage it to reform itself. In a group interview at Qinghua University, one student said, "We're not against the government, just against the way it is run. It's a question of the Party atmosphere, of corruption and of the bureaucracy." Then the students looked a bit un­ easy, as if they might be giving the wrong idea about their goals. One said, "Remember, though, we can't always say what we think."29 Thus, a dominating strategy from April 26 until about May 15 was to avoid directly challenging the Party or any specific leaders. In an in­ terview with a western reporter, even Wuer Kaixi acknowledged he hoped to join the Party: "It has internal problems [such as bureau­ cracy, lack of democracy and corruption], but if they are solved the

27 on the unofficial loudspeaker at the "Triangle.. area at Beijing University a woman "read out a dangerous poem that was both a riddle and a warning." It began, "There is one sentence,/ Spoken aloud it brings calamity," but it never states what that powerful sentence is. "The sentence that youth did not disclose, though undoubtedly many thought it, was Dadao gongchandang! "Down with the Communist Party!" See The Iron House: A Mem­ oir of the Chinese Democracy Movement and the Tiananmen Massacre, Layton, Utah: Per­ egrine Smith Books, 1990, pp. 65-66. 26. "Beijing Students Keep Doctrine in Their Sights,'" supra note 23, p. 1. 27. Ibid., p. 5. 28. Sandra Burton and Jaime A. FlorCruz, "China: Spring of Discontent," Time, May 8, 1989, p. 16. 29. Kristof, "Beijing Students Keep Doctrine in Their Sights," supra note 23, p. 5. 60 CoNTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

Party is still good," he said. 30 After the April27 victory, the first of many changes was made in the leadership of the student movement. On April 28, the Provisional Students Federation became the permanent Federation of Autono­ mous Students Unions of Beijing Universities and Colleges. Zhou Yongjun, from the University of Politics and Law, who had been its chair for its mere five days of existence, was relieved of his position for having prematurely decided to cancel the April 27 march without con­ sulting members of the steering committee. He was replaced by twenty-one-year-old Wuer Kaixi, a first-year student in education at Beijing Normal University. 31 The movement began to emphasize two related goals: government recognition of the autonomous Beijing Stu­ dents' Federation and an open dialogue with top government leaders. At this point, the government seemed willing to hold a dialogue, but they could not recognize an unofficial organization; student activ­ ists, on the other hand, claimed that only the autonomous Federation was truly representative. When government spokesmen led by held a televised "dialogue" on April 29, big character posters at­ tacked the gesture as bad faith. In an essay entitled "Was it Dia­ logue-or a Lecture?" Beijing Normal University students protested that the "dialogue" consisted of leaders talking for 90% of the three hours with grandfatherly condescension to a hand-picked group of "student representatives" who "were completely unable to represent the masses of progressive young students who have been active in the student movement. " 32 A second dialogue on April 30 with invited student representatives was also an occasion for the government to clarify its position and run logistical and rhetorical circles around the inexperienced and uncoached students. On May 1 the Beijing Stu­ dents' Federation denounced these dialogue gestures as a ploy to split the student groups, and the following day they presented a more spe­ cific set of guidelines for "equal dialogue:" that it be broadcast live, witnessed by Chinese and foreign journalists, and include the highest government leaders as well as elected student representatives who would suffer no reprisals afterwards. The government once again procrastinated in responding. By May Fourth much of the momentum of the democracy move­ ment was diminishing, and this long-anticipated anniversary threatened to be a final anti-climax to three weeks of demonstrations.

30. Dorinda Elliott," 'We Have Enthusiasm and Daring,'" Newsweek, May 8, 1989, p. 16. 31. See Han and Hua, supra note 1, pp. 70, 111. 32. Translated in full in Han and Hua, supra note 2, pp. 112-114. STUDENT DEMOCRACY MOVEMENT 61

However, many students did once again perform the arduous from their campuses to Tiananmen, both out of a sense of his­ torical duty and as a sort of festival observance. It would have been difficult for the police to interfere with a student march on a national holiday commemorating student marches. The mood was relaxed and festive, though the turnout of approximately 100,000 students was only about half that of the victorious April 27 demonstration, and many of the participants in the May Fourth demonstration were from out of town. In his upbeat speech to the demonstrators assembled in Tiananmen Square, Wuer Kaixi listed a series of vague moralistic de­ mands, including more rule by law, press freedom, and support for education; he concluded, "our views are not in conflict with those of the government. " 33 As many students wavered in early May, unsure of whether or not to return to class, lively debate was continuing on campuses and in editorial offices all around Beijing. Numerous big- and small-charac­ ter posters and position papers began to appear arguing against one­ party rule and , or discussing comparative political theory.34 Editors of People's Daily gave balanced coverage to the unofficial dem­ onstrations on page 1 of the May 5 issue covering May Fourth activi­ ties; over one thousand journalists jeopardized their careers by signing a May 9 petition demanding more freedom to report the news accu­ rately.35 On that day, most weary students failed to appear for a rally to support the journalists, but about 10,000 demonstrators did turn out the following day in response to a clever change in tactics: rather than walking to Tiananmen Square, students were organized to ride their bicycles there. By this point, student leaders were quite divided. Mter the re­ turn of Zhao Ziyang to the capital on May 1, there were signs the government might be more conciliatory. Moderate students saw no reason not to return to classes. Wang Dan announced that students would return to class, and said the end of the class strike was not an admission of failure: "The student movement has realized two goals that have

33. See the "New May Fourth Manifesto," Han and Hua, supra note 1, pp. 135-137. 34. See, for examples, Han and Hua, supra note 1, pp. 139-176. 35. The May 5 issue of People's Daily featured, next to the official schoolgirls dancing to commemorate the May Fourth Movement, an equally prominent photograph of the de­ mocracy demonstrations with the large banner of the outlawed autonomous Beijing Stu­ dents' Federation as the striking focal point. The May 9 journalists' petition is translated in Han and Hua, supra note 1, pp. 190- 192. 62 CoNTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

never been achieved before," he said. "The first is the crea­ tion of a student organization, which was badly needed. The second achievement is the huge amount of public support we've received. " 36 The more radical leaders did not want to yield too soon, however, because the government had not satisfied their demands for a sincere and equal dialogue. This conflict foreshadowed the future contention over whether or not hunger strikers should withdraw from Tiananmen Square, a decision with much higher stakes. Some hoped that their movement could regain momentum by coinciding with the May 15 arrival of Soviet President in Beijing. Most stu­ dents at Beijing University and some at other schools were still on strike37 and might be persuaded to continue until Gorbachev's visit. Thus, both the government and the student leaders were stalling for time, the government hoping the movement would gradually peter out, the students hoping they could draw attention away from the in­ ternational interest in the state visit that was to symbolize the reconcil­ iation of China and the Soviet Union after thirty years of tensions. Among the more moderate student leaders were a group who on May 3 had formed a new student organization, the Students' Dialogue Delegation of Beijing Universities, chaired by Xiang Xiaoji of the Uni­ versity of Politics and Law and of Beijing University. On May 6 they submitted a petition to the government stipulating only two basic conditions to an "equal dialogue": that the students select their own representatives and that the meeting be broadcast live on television and radio. 38 The government did not respond until May 12, and then the concessions it offered were minimal at best. 39 The ulti­ mate result was that no meaningful dialogue was ever held. One ses­ sion that was finally organized on May 14 was aborted; the Dialogue Delegation walked out when they discovered the proceedings could

36. Daniel Southerland, Washington Post, rpt. in International Herald Tribune, May 6- 7, 1989, pp. 1, 5. 37. A May 8 informal survey at Beijing University showed 67% of the students wanted to continue to strike, 24% wanted to return to class, and 8% abstained. 38. See the report on the Beijing Students' Dialogue Delegation as published in the students' Xinwen Daobao (News Herald), No. 3, May 12, 1989; translated in Han and Hua, supra note 1, pp. 187-188. The original Chinese versions of many of these documents and handbills are collected in the China 1989 Democracy Movement Archive at Columbia and similar archives at other universities. 39. See the People's University Students' Autonomous Union's protest of this "cheap trick" on the part of the government, translated in Han and Hua, supra note l, pp. 193-194. STUDENT DEMOCRACY MOVEMENT 63

not be broadcast as previously agreed.40 And the May 18 meeting be­ tween Li Peng and hunger striking students was merely a significant dramatization of the failure of communication and compromise, for it took place after decisions to invoke martial law and use troops against the students had apparently already been made.41

IV. MAY 12-19: THE HUNGER STRIKE The students' democracy movement had gradually decreased its demands from seven to three to an eventual emphasis on one: a dia­ logue representing its autonomous organizations. Yet the government would not even accede to this single demand. A group of radical stu­ dents were frustrated and angry; they had no more patience to wait for a government concession, and they did not want to lose the momen­ tum of what had become a nationwide student movement. It seemed to them necessary to regain the initiative, to escalate the confrontation and force the slow-moving government to respond. So on the evening of May 12, they posted at the Beijing University "Triangle" a list of forty-odd students who intended to undertake a hunger strike. An early declaration articulated three reasons for the hunger strike: First, to protest the indifferent and cold attitude the government has taken toward the boycott of classes by Bei­ jing students. Second, to protest the government's foot-dragging in [arranging] a dialogue with the Beijing Students' Dialogue Delegation. Third, to protest the government's continuing tactic of branding this patriotic, student Democracy Movement as "turmoil," and to protest a series of distorted news reports.42 One of the original group, , later explained that she em­ barked on the hunger strike to test the government: "to see whether it intends to suppress the movement or to ignore it, to see whether the people have a conscience or not, to see if China still has a conscience or not, if it has hope or not. "43 Many student leaders such as Wang

40. See "Record of the Aborted 'May 14 Dialogue'" in Han and Hua, supra note 1, pp. 204-206. 41. See "Transcript of May 18 Meeting between Premier Li Peng and Students," in Han and Hua, supra note 1, pp. 242-246, and for a slightly different version, "Li Peng's Conversation with Student Leaders," in Yi Mu and Thompson, supra note 6, pp. 168-176. 42. See "Hunger Strike Declaration," in Han and Hua, supra note 1, p. 202. 43. See translation of taped interview with Chai Ling in late May in Han and Hua, supra note 1, pp. 197-199. 64 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

Dan and Wuer Kaixi were at first skeptical about this strategy, but were eventually persuaded by Chai Ling to add their names to the list of hunger strikers.44 By Saturday, May 13, the number of students committed to the hunger strike was about 300, mostly from Beijing University and Beijing Normal University. They took an oath, tied on red headbands, ate one last meal with supportive teachers who took them out to a restaurant for lunch, and at 2:00 p.m. departed for Tiananmen Square. There they settled down at the foot of the Monu­ ment to the People's Heroes, encircled by a protective ring of thousands of supporting classmates, and waiting for a government re­ sponse- which most expected to precede Gorbachev's arrival in Bei­ jing on Monday, May 15. The strategy of a mass hunger strike of indefinite length was un­ precedented in China. 45 Three thousand years ago, two loyal martyrs, Bo Yi and Shu , refused to eat the grain of the conquering dy­ nasty.46 Mao Zedong himself cited examples of ancient and modem individual heroes who starved rather than eat food handed out in con­ tempt.47 The students' hunger strike also echoed the tradition of pa­ triotic officials like Qu Yuan who risked their own lives to boldly remonstrate with the emperor over incorrect policies. However, the students' predecessors were individuals; the hunger strike that began on May 13 was historically significant because it was a mass action; it eventually included over three thousand fasters plus tens of thousands of supporters who provided physical, medical and political assistance. The individuals who refused food on principle in China's past were rejecting food that originated from a tainted source. One impli­ cation of the 1989 student hunger strike was that the food provided

44. See Lee Feigon, supra note 15, p. 195. 45. There are reports of many short-term hunger strikes during the Cultural Revolu­ tion and of a two-day hunger strike in 1980 among more than fifty student activists at Teachers' College in Changsha to protest school authorities' interference in elec­ tions for a representative to the local National People's Congress, but these events are not well known among young students in China. 46. Bo Yi and Shu Qi died on Shouyang Mountain because they considered it unright­ eous to eat the grain provided by the Zhou conqueror King Wu, who had waged war to aggrandize his power before the mourning period for his father, King Wen, was completed. See Shiji (Historical Records) #60, translated by Burton Watson in Cyril Birch, ed., An­ thology of Chinese Literature from Early Times to the Fourteenth Century (New York: Grove Press, 1965), pp. 103-105. 47. In his essay in memoriam to Stuart Leyton, Mao Zedong praised Qinghua Univer­ sity professor Ziqing, who in the late 1940s died from illness after he had refused on principle to eat "relief" wheat flour because it was shipped by imperialist America. See Mao Zedong, Mao Zedong Xuanji (Selected Works of Mao Zedong), vol. 4, Beijing: Renmin chubanshe, 1960; rpt. 1969, p. 1384 and note 8, p. 1387. STUDENT DEMOCRACY MOVEMENT 65

them-directly by the state-subsidized university dining halls, and ul­ timately by the Chinese government-came from such a compromised source that they would not swallow it. They were thus acting out a gross insult to the Chinese , particularly since govern­ ment leaders are so proud that an undisputed accomplishment of com­ munist rule since 1949 is its virtual elimination of the threat of starvation so prevalent before "liberation." The "iron rice bowl," gov­ ernment grain coupons and subsidized staple foods even now provide security from hunger for each member of society. The hunger strikers no longer wanted to participate in this contract with the government, a contract which suggested a reciprocal obligation: the government feeds the people, and in tum the people obey the government. The philosophic foundation of the People's Republic of China rests on the government's love and concern for the people. Like par­ ents, rulers are responsible for nurturing and providing for their citi­ zens, who thus assume the role of their children. The notion of reciprocal obligations between parents and children, government and governed, goes back to , who preached that children and subjects should respect and obey their parents and rulers, who should in tum provide for their needs. When the students refused food, they were rejecting this bond of reciprocal obligation; they would rather starve than participate in the system. By rejecting what was provided by the government, they were also making a statement that the leaders had failed to satisfy their basic needs. These students had studied de­ mocracy, they had tasted freedom, and they were no longer willing to swallow the meager rations they were offered. By refusing to eat, they removed themselves from the social structure the government had es­ tablished, and caused the leaders a profound loss of face for having failed as good parents. This rupture in the reciprocal bond partially explains the violence of the government's reaction. The students, infu­ riated by the luxurie~pecially the elaborate banquets and imported cigarettes and liquor~njoyed by the political leaders who benefit from official profiteering and corruption, demonstrated they would rather die than eat out of the hands of those officials who fed them­ selves first. The rhetoric of the hunger strikers and of their supporters em­ phasized parent-child relationships. A prevalent slogan throughout the spring 1989 democracy movement, especially after the April 26 People's Daily editorial, was "Mama, I am not wrong." This plea was both personal and political. The nation is one's motherland; a protest outlawed by the government would be a defiance of one's mother country unless the protest appealed to a higher principle on behalf of 66 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES the nation. The May 13 Beijing University Hunger Strikers' State­ ment says, "In the spirit of sacrificing our lives, we fight for life. But we are children, we are still children! Mother China, look earnestly upon your sons and daughters!"48 The Communist Party is also often referred to as "the mother of the people" and opposition to the Party could be considered a betrayal of one's "mother." Thus, in an allusion to the appeals to "mama," one big-character poster at Beijing Univer­ sity was entitled, "Party, I am not wrong." On the personal level, many mothers tried desperately to per­ suade their children not to risk their futures or their lives by partici­ pating in this student movement; when a student decided that patriotic loyalty, idealism, or sacrifice for the future of China was a higher call­ ing than obedience to. one's own parent, he or she would attempt to justify this choice with banners and posters headed, "Mama, I am not wrong."49 But the protestors were still betraying their parents' trust; Chinese parents typically make enormous sacrifices for their children, but it is expected that the children will live on to repay them by caring for them in their old age, and a premature death-especially of an only child-would affect the entire family structure. The Beijing Univer­ sity Hunger Strikers' own statement reads: As we suffer from hunger, Papa and Mama, do not grieve ... Farewell, mother and father! Please forgive me, your child who cannot be loyal [to the country] and [meet the demands of] at the same timel 50 Many of the hunger strikers did not dare to confront their parents with this cause for anxiety. One of the primary duties of the room­ mates of some hunger striking students was to receive phone calls from worried parents and to lie reassuringly about the activities of their son or daughter.

48. Translated in Han and Hua, supra note 1, p. 201. See Han and Hua's discussion of this theme on p. 199. Other variations are the poem, "Mama, We're Not Wrong," trans­ lated on pp. 127-128, and the intellectuals' responsive slogan, ''The children are not wrong." 49. See Han and Hua, supra note 1, pp. 126-128. 50. Translated in Han and Hua, supra note 1, p. 210. Another statement, "Parting Words [of a Hunger Striker]," echoes this concern: Perhaps I will not be able to fulfill my filial duty. For thousands and thousands of parents and their children, I have tearfully made the choice to go on this hunger strike. . . . Since time immemorial, it has been impossible to satisfy the demands of both loyalty [to one's nation] and filial duty to one's parents. Papa, Mama, please understand why your son takes this action! (translated in full in Han and Hua, supra note 1. pp. 202-203). STUDENT DEMOCRACY MOVEMENT 67

Determined to employ only nonviolent means, earnestly hoping to persuade the government their movement was not one of "turmoil," the students were inspired by Gandhi's method of passive resistance, perhaps even by hunger striking political prisoners in South Africa or Northern Ireland. But more importantly, the drama of young people refusing food tapped deep Chinese nerves. Eating is central to ; according to a common Chinese proverb, "The people con­ sider eating of prime importance" (min yi shi wei tian ). In a country where the population is so great and the proportion of arable land is so small, where floods and occur with devastating frequency, hunger and starvation are the most primal fears. In China, cuisine is a highly developed art form, a basic societal element, and a source of both national and regional pride. One of the hunger strikers' banners read: "We love to eat, but we love freedom more." The hunger strike was extremely effective, and deadly serious, as political theater. In Beijing, tens of thousands of citizens flocked to Tiananmen Square around the clock after May 13, out of curiosity and concern, to see the spectacle. Moreover, with television now widely available throughout China, the image on the screen has an over­ whelming power to move the population. The hunger strike coincided with an expanded international media presence in Beijing for Gorbachev's visit and also with three days (May 16-19) of extraordi­ narily bold press freedom within China, before the government began its vengeful repression. National Chinese television featured inter­ views with medical workers, teachers, and students prepared to die for democracy. The coverage was charged with intense emotion, espe­ cially striking in contrast to the sterility and cheeriness of normal Chi­ nese television news. One evening a weeping mother appeared on the television screen; she had donned a headband like those the hunger strikers wore and had gone to Tiananmen Square to visit her fasting son. Through her sobs, she explained she supported her son's ideals, but he looked so weak, and she could not bear to watch him die. Nightly Central Television brought the ominous pictures of uncon­ scious youths on hospital stretchers, intravenous drips, exhausted white-coated medics, and wailing ambulances into viewers' homes, as the hours of waiting for a compassionate government response ticked away. The students had sacrificed their health and strength for their country. Surely, the people believed, the government could sacrifice a bit of its mighty strength to achieve a resolution. How could a govern­ ment that claimed to love the people leave its most promising children to die? After several days it became clear that the hardline leaders re- 68 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES fused to make concessions to the students' modest demands. As Chai Ling had predicted, this inaction exposed the coldness of the Party officials. The moralistic drama juxtaposed innocent victims against cruel tormentors, and it galvanized the population. To the extent that the citizens were moved by the self-sacrificing children, they were en­ raged by the selfish government leaders. They poured out into the streets in outraged defiance, over a million strong. They not only wanted to oppose the bad rulers; they also had to compensate for them, to act as foster parents, supporting and nurturing the idealistic children abandoned by the government. Moved by deep generalized parental love to fight for an end to spiritual and political starvation, they resisted courageously and defiantly until they were literally crushed by the government's tanks. Each day during the week of May 15 the crowds at Tiananmen grew larger, the walks of life represented broadened, the number of supporters from outside the city of Beijing increased. A common ac­ tivity at the Square was counting signs of new work units making a public appearance for the first time: groups of workers and journal­ ists, Party members and students at the Central Party School, private entrepreneurs and cadres from government ministries. Throughout the week, more and more open letters were sent to the government leaders, and reported in the press, supporting the students: these came from ten university presidents, the All China Women's Federation, managers of nine Beijing factories, journalists at the major media, and individuals, including Party members. The slogans on banners be­ came more radical with each passing day; early in the week, most avoided using proper names, for example; then mid-week small bottles were broken symbolically, because the words "small bottle" (xiaoping) sound like Deng's name; but by Thursday and Friday Li Peng and Deng Xiaoping were often attacked directly. The naming of Li Peng and Deng Xiaoping of course intensified after the declaration of mar­ tial law. Although the hunger strike was a brilliant strategy for arousing nearly all the population of Beijing and much of the rest of China to sympathize with the hunger striking students, the unresponsiveness of the government placed those students in a very difficult position. The hunger strike played upon a deep Chinese cultural penchant for mar­ tyrdom, but it was also constrained by the limitations of self-destruc­ tion. The rhetoric and much of the galvanizing power of the hunger strike was connected to death: "Without democracy, we would rather die!" read the hunger strikers' shirts; "Bloodshed in a just cause" and "The people do not fear death" appeared on some of their headbands. STUDENT DEMOCRACY MOVEMENT 69

Having so dramatically vowed victory or death, it was very difficult for the hunger strikers to compromise. Some of the inherent problems with the hunger strike strategy were practical. The student leaders could hardly avoid joining the hunger strike, yet no one is at his best in planning moves and making rational decisions after several days of starvation. Naturally, tempers were short and creativity was diminished. Even during the first week, medical supplies were insufficient, hygiene conditions were poor, and hundreds of students were hospitalized. Perhaps for these reasons, en­ dorsement of the hunger strike was at first shaky: the autonomous Beijing Students' Federation originally opposed the idea, but later sup­ ported it. Moreover, beginning with the second day of the hunger strike there was conflict about how the students might withdraw voluntarily without admitting defeat. There were four major decision-making points in the controversy over whether or not to abandon Tiananmen Square: May 14-16, May 19, May 27-29, and before dawn on June 4. On May 14, in the aborted dialogue meeting, some moderate student representatives suggested the hunger strikers heed the pleas of Mingfu, Secretary to the Party's Central Committee Secretariat, to abandon the Square, while "hardline" student leaders insisted on a struggle to the death. On the same afternoon, a group of twelve prom­ inent intellectual leaders met to compose a statement supporting the students' goals, but they also had trouble agreeing on whether or how strongly to urge the hunger strikers to withdraw from the Square; largely because they ended up urging the students to leave, their visit to the hunger strikers was perceived as more antagonistic than sup­ portive. 51 At 5:00 on the afternoon of May 16, went to the square by himself to try to negotiate with the hunger strikers, mak­ ing several accommodations to the students' demands but not recog­ nizing the legitimacy of their autonomous organizations or repudiating the People's Daily's editorial of April 26, 1989. Some of the student leaders, such as Wang Dan, Wuer Kaixi, and Wang Chaohua, fearing that continuation of the hunger strike would unnec­ essarily lead to bloodshed, were inclined to accept the offer, and tried to persuade hunger strikers to terminate. But the hunger strikers voted several times to continue until the government was forced to make concessions. At that point most of the hunger strikers felt that with so many people from all walks of life out on the streets demon-

51. The two-edged statement ofthe twelve intellectuals, as reported by the News Service, is translated in Han and Hua, supra note 1, pp. 207-208. 70 CONTEMPORARY ASIAN STUDIES SERIES strating in support of them, the government would not dare to use force against them. 52 And as Wuer Kaixi explained in the meeting with Li Peng, the decision-making system in the Square was not ma­ jority rule, but rather "one in which 99.9 percent follow 0.1 percent­ so if a single hunger striker refuses to leave the Square, then the other several thousand will not leave either."53 When rumors circulated on Friday, May 19 that Li Peng was about to declare martial law, many of the hunger strikers began to contemplate strategic withdrawal. At 9:00 p.m. the Hunger Strikers' Group declared that the hunger strike had been converted into a sit-in protest; this decision was reported on national television. One hour later, Li Peng and Yang Shangkun announced to a special meeting of high Party and army officials that martial law would be formally de­ clared at 10 am on Saturday, May 20; this meeting was broadcast on national television just after midnight. Soon large numbers of citizens rushed to the outskirts of town to form human barricades to prevent army vehicles from entering the city. At the same time, students bravely rushed from their campuses back to Tiananmen to protect their weakened, hunger striking comrades.

V. MAY 20-JUNE 4: MARTIAL LAW After May 20, the student movement was geographically and strategically split. The hardliners who remained in occupation of Tiananmen Square were reinforced by groups of visitors from out-of­ town, who established a "tent city" and seemed prepared to camp out indefinitely. The majority of the students from Beijing universities re­ turned to their campuses. From there, they encouraged citizen resist­ ance to the troops, helped erect barricades, and continued to press for democratic reforms. A primary activity was "educating the soldiers." Student speakers on the unofficial loudspeaker at Beijing University urged classmates to go ask the soldiers how they felt about not having been told where they were being sent or why, to explain to them that the movement was non-violent, patriotic, and supported by most of the citizens of Beijing, and to entreat them not to hurt the people. During the week of May 15, city police had virtually disappeared from sight; the same students who had effectively maintained order and smooth traffic flow around Tiananmen Square during the hunger

52. See Scott Simmie and Bob Nixon, Tiananmen Square, Vancouver and Toronto: Douglas & Mcintyre, 1989, p. 109. 53. See Han and Hua, supra note 1, p. 243; compare Yi Mu and Thompson, supra note 6, p. 169. STUDENT DEMOCRACY MoVEMENT 71 strike continued to assume responsibility for crowd control and traffic regulation around the campuses and throughout the city after the dec­ laration of martial law. They set up roadblocks on the major arteries at the outskirts of the city, and all drivers heeded their polite requests to show nonmilitary identification before entering the city limits. The students succeeded in persuading classmates and city residents to exer­ cise restraint and avoid provocation of the army. Individual students still were self-consciously charming, polite, nonviolent, and well organized, but the student organizations contin­ ued to be plagued by internal dissention, unstable leadership, and lack of institutionalized decisionmaking processes. The students' vague no­ tions of democracy were rivaled by more familiar concepts of unity. Slogans such as the one on a public bus banner, "The entire country of one mind," hardly supported democratic pluralism. Under the battle­ field stress of the conditions of late May, pluralism of any sort was probably felt to verge on anarchy and chaos. On May 23 Wuer Kaixi lost favor with the students after announcing on May 22-without prior consultation with other student leaders-that they should retreat from the square to the embassy district. He was a spokesman at their press conference four days later, however. At the same time, sixty­ nine schools represented in the square voted to transfer leadership from the Beijing Students' Federation to a temporary group, which was on May 24 named the Protect Tiananmen Headquarters and headed by Chai Ling. By this time, the Hunger Strikers Group, which had earlier replaced the Beijing Students' Federation, had been re­ placed by the non-Beijing students group. As leadership shifted, the debate about how to end the occupation of the square continued. On May 27 Wang Dan, Wuer Kaixi and Chai Ling announced the stu­ dents would leave the square May 30. "It is very difficult to continue our sit-in," ... Wuer Kaixi told a press conference. "As leaders, we have responsibility for the students' health, and the difficulties are obvious. Hy­ giene is extremely bad and the food is insufficient."54 Other students said the terrible conditions were injurious to their health, and it was not worth enduring them when the government con­ tinued to ignore the students' demands. Various alternative activities were suggested, including talking with workers in factories, distribut­ ing leaflets, building a network of student organizations around the

54. Nicholas D. Kristof, "Students Urging End to the Siege of Beijing Square," New York Times, May 28, 1989, p. l. 72 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES country, and opening "Democracy University" on the Square.ss But the next day, May 28, the Protect Tiananmen Headquarters and other groups in Tiananmen declared they would stay at least until June 20 when the National People's Congress was scheduled to meet in regular session. Chai Ling resigned from her post as commander of the Protect Tiananmen Headquarters on the 29th, though she re­ turned within a few days. The reasons for staying were mixed, and may not have been the same for the Beijing students who had been demonstrating for over a month and the more recent arrivals from far away. A 23-year-old student from named Chen Di gave a western reporter an idealistic explanation on May 29, "Tiananmen Square has become a symbol of democracy in China. We can't aban­ don it. "s6 On the other hand, a classmate of hers named had calculated the risks and gave a strategic explanation: If we left, the student movement would certainly lose. And if we stay, the Government will be forced to make a choice. Either it will agree to a dialogue with students, or it will stage a crackdown. And if it chooses the crackdown, it will lose support. s? Thus, one motive of continued occupation of the square was to force the government into a comer, no longer to press it to capitulate to the students, but rather to provoke it to discredit itself by resorting to violence. Amidst this debate, morale was boosted on May 30 with the arri­ val of the statue created by students at the Central Art Academy. The planning for the inauguration of Democ­ racy University, to be opened at 8 pm on June 3, continued until the last minute. On June 2, four new hunger strikers arrived for the first shift of a planned rotation of short-term fasts by younger intellectuals. Up until the very end, the student movement was remarkable for its creativity. Earlier, these students had drawn cartoons, written poems and songs, made up riddles and jokes to support the movement. In late May and early June, the government began to pay workers to participate in pro-government demonstrations. A group of students promptly organized a parody of those demonstrations: wearing stu­ dent clothes but covering their faces with masks, on June 2 they rode their bicycles through the city's streets offering ten-yuan notes to citi-

55. Ibid., p. 16. 56. Nicholas D. Kristof, "Chinese Students, in About-Face, Will Continue Occupying Square," New York Times, May 30, 1989, p. AlO. 57. Ibid. STUDENT DEMOCRACY MOVEMENT 73

zens who would join them, shouting sarcastic slogans such as "Down with democracy!" "Down with students!" "Down with America!" and "Support dictatorship!" "Support tyranny!" "Support the em­ peror!" Some feared that even this kind of activity was too provoca­ tive, and a number of male students invented a way to protest silently: by shaving their heads, they made a statement wufa ("no "), which is a homonym in Chinese for wufa ("lawless," as in the phrase wufa wutian, "no law and no justice"). This kind of creative maneuvering and persistence is one of the brightest signs of hope for the re-emer­ gence of the next phase of the Chinese students' democracy movement in the future. Finally, the students who remained in Tiananmen Square coura­ geously held their ground even when confronted by Army troops. Though they were all willing to die, they negotiated a strategic with­ drawal to minimize pointless loss to their forces just before dawn on June 4. By that time hundreds of citizens of Beijing had already been killed, and thousands more injured, in the People's Liberation Army's excessive use of force in moving into position at Tiananmen Square.

VI. REFLEcriONS ON THE STUDENTS' STRATEGIES Of the student leaders mentioned in this article, Wang Dan was reportedly arrested in July, 1989, and there are unconfirmed rumors that Zhou Y ongjun was also arrested; his whereabouts are unknown. Shen Tong legally traveled to the United States as a student; Xiang Xiaoji and Wuer Kaixi escaped from China to the West illegally, and reemerged in summer 1989. Chai Ling and Wang Chaohua amazingly eluded capture within China for ten months, with the support of an underground network, then escaped to the West in the spring of 1990. Many other student demonstrators were arrested, and some of them have been released; others were punished by poor job assignments, de­ nial of permission to study abroad, or repeated writing of self-criti­ cisms. All of the students, within and outside of China, are still reflecting on the strengths and weaknesses of the student democracy movement, and on China's future prospects. Some of the harshest criticism of the movement has come from sympathetic comrades. The four intellectuals who organized a sev­ enty-two-hour hunger strike beginning on June 2-popular singer (originally from Taiwan) , Beijing Normal University As­ sistant Professor , former Beijing University sociologist and Stone Computer Corporation executive Zhou Duo, and Commu­ nist Party member and former editor Gao Xin-issued a "Hunger Strike Manifesto" which pointed out that in "the present movement, 74 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES both the government and the students have made mistakes," though "the greater fault for the present situation lies with the government." However, they specified, The students' mistakes are mainly manifested in the in­ ternal chaos of their organizations and the lack of efficient and democratic procedures. Although their goal is democ­ racy, their means and procedures for achieving democracy are not democratic. Their lack of spirit and the sectarianism that has caused their forces to neutralize each other have resulted in all their policies coming to naught. More faults can be named: financial chaos, material waste, an excess of emotion and a lack of reason; too much of the attitude that they are privileged, and not enough of the belief in equality; and so on. 58 Liu Xiaobo's bold analysis of the need to transform "empty democ­ racy" into "democracy of action," to move from abstract idealism to concrete implementation, was more sophisticated than the vision of most of the young student leaders. His "Manifesto" also rejected Maoist notions of class struggle and violence and advocated pluralism and peaceful democracy, in which each citizen would play a responsi­ ble role. In its emphasis on the need for fundamental structural change in Chinese politics to establish a system of checks and balances and abolish absolute power, the "Manifesto" indicates how far and how rapidly the democracy movement had progressed in the two months since Wang Dan's April 3 big-character poster. It also sug­ gests that if the next movement begins where this 1989 movement ended, even more progress toward democracy and a new "political culture" will be made. But most of the student leaders did not regard fundamental struc­ tural change of the Chinese political system as their goal. On the con­ trary, they regarded themselves more in the traditional role of loyal remonstrators; like the scholar-officials of ancient China, or the patri­ otic Beijing University students of 1919, they assumed the responsibil­ ity of encouraging more moral behavior on the part of the Chinese government leaders. The conspicuously public actions the students chose-marching through the streets and writing big-character pos­ ters, erecting a statue and kneeling in petition, hunger striking and occupation of the square at the heart of China's government build-

58. The "Manifesto" is translated in full in Han and Hua, supra note 1, pp. 349-354; this passage is from page 352. For more information on Hou Dejian's background and the hunger strike, see Simmie and Nixon, supra note 52, pp. 163-167. STUDENT DEMOCRACY MOVEMENT 75 ings--conveyed the moral force of their demands, and left procedures for practical implementation up to others. Moreover, their moralistic demands emphasized ending corruption and telling the truth: rather than alter the system, they proposed replacing dishonest officials with men of integrity; the focus on freedom of the press did not suggest a competitive free enterprise media system but rather the journalists' ob­ ligation to avoid distortion and lies. Other demands also involved moral pleas to tell the truth: for example, by re-evaluating Hu Yaobang and others who had been attacked by the 1983 anti-spiritual pollution campaign and the 1987 anti- cam­ paign. Confucian ethics were invoked in the students' demands for a "rectification of names": to restore the correct leadership of the Party, or for the people's police, government, and army to serve the people. A large banner in the April 27 demonstration proclaimed that the stu­ dents were the "soul" (hun) of China; they appealed to the govern­ ment for moral leadership, and this principled idealism aroused the consciences of the Beijing citizens who supported the students. The students felt that by risking their futures in public demonstrations, they could save China. The populace trusted them because they had no selfish motives; even the demand for increased state funding for higher education was dropped soon after April 22. The impact of the students' moral persuasion was evident in the sharp decline in theft during the period the students dominated the streets of Beijing. This moralism not only unified the people's support for the stu­ dents, it also made the government look even more untrustworthy in contrast. The government was exposed in its use of methods of au­ thoritarian dictatorship, including lies and brute force. While the stu­ dents looked idealistically to the future of China, the government took desperate measures to avoid losing what it had gained in the and 1940s. Government leaders not only tried to turn the clock back­ wards, they also revealed the extent to which they were out of touch with the humanistic yearnings of both the students and large portions of the population of China. However, although the notion of ethical integrity in government is deeply embedded in Chinese traditional and modern attitudes to politics, it has also served for centuries as a spotlight on the moral character of individual leaders, and as an obstacle to the development of impersonal political institutions to protect individual rights and in­ sure justice, or rule by law. When the students' moderate patriotic demands were ignored, they began to attack specific leaders, as if re­ placing them with different personalities would solve the problem of the students' fundamental powerlessness. The student movement did 76 CoNTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

not have time to prepare a plan for systematic alternatives to China's political structure, nor did they even have an outstanding leader who remained in favor with the students for the entire nine weeks the movement lasted. Indeed, as the movement developed, the emotional­ ism of its moral appeal intensified with the spectacle of the hunger strike and the Beijing citizens' outpouring of support for it. In fact, the students' movement did have a central practical, con­ crete demand of profound institutional significance, but this implica­ tion was generally eclipsed by the moral rhetoric in which it was cloaked. The students claimed the right to organize their own autono­ mous representative group, outside the control of the Communist Party's monopoly of power. If the government had granted recogni­ tion of this autonomous students' federation, it would have meant the "legalization of the first completely independent political organization in PRC history, and the effective negation of Deng Xiaoping's four basic principles, as Deng understood them. " 59 The formation of this representative autonomous federation-as well as similar ones by Bei­ jing workers, intellectuals and other groups-establishes a highly sig­ nificant model of unprecedented autonomous political organizing in China. But the students vacillated, ideologically and rhetorically, on the issue of how hard to press for legalization of their unauthorized organization. Many of them may not have been audacious enough to want to push this demand to its full logical extent of defying the Party's ultimate control. On the other hand, recognition of the stu­ dents' own federation, and holding a publicly broadcast dialogue with its members, were their two most consistent demands. The student demonstrators agreed they wanted a more honest and truthful government; but they were internally split on whether or not they opposed the current government. The People's Daily editorial had attacked them for being anti-socialist and anti-Party, and many students wanted to prove these accusations were false. For example, in an essay published in America as an op-ed piece, Wang Dan was very careful to avoid saying his movement intended to overthrow the . He only went so far as to say their aim "is to exert pressure on the government to promote the progress of democ­ racy. Nor do we wish to hide the fact that our political views differ on some points from those of the government and the Party." But he ends with a dramatic rhetorical flourish: "We assure you that we will

59. Andrew J. Nathan, China's Crisis: Dilemmas of Reform and Prospects for Democ­ racy (New York: Columbia University Press, 1990), p. 185. STUDENT DEMOCRACY MOVEMENT 77

fight to the very end for the realization of democracy in China. " 60 This vacillation between caution and flamboyance, the juxtaposition of moderate restraint and absolute ultimatum, was one of the internal contradictions of the movement. The students' use of official language sometimes placed them in a similar double-bind. When student leaders realized that the radical language used in slogans during the week of April 15 made the move­ ment too vulnerable, they cleverly demanded that the demonstrators tone down their rhetoric. They demanded only rights guaranteed them by the PRC Constitution, "appealing to the authorities to live up to the values they themselves had articulated."61 This echoing of po­ litically correct language was successful in encouraging moderates to join the movement and in warding off government attacks. However, by emphasizing a nonadversarial position, it sometimes prevented the students from clarifying their position. For example, the students' meaning in asking for a dialogue was very different from the govern­ ment's meaning in arranging one, yet they used the same word. Therefore, even while Li Peng was declaring martial law, he reiterated that the Party and Government would "continue" [sic] to hold dia­ logues with "students and people from all walks oflife."62 The lines of communication initiated by both sides did not intersect. Given the ambiguity that arose from both sides' claiming to be­ lieve in the same values, language became devalued. For example, it was impossible to negotiate a settlement, for the two sides could not state their opposing positions and then gradually hammer out a com­ promise solution. Instead, actions often spoke louder than words. Acting out replaced negotiation. Though Li Peng may have domi­ nated at the May 18 meeting with the students, he was upstaged by Wuer Kaixi who accused him of arriving late and attacked him for wasting time. Furthermore, Wuer Kaixi's appearance in striped hos­ pital pajamas, his use of a nurse-assisted oxygen inhaling apparatus during the "dialogue," and his dramatic fainting after having declared that the government was insincere and the meeting was useless made a stronger impact than any speeches. The government's eventual de­ ployment of the People's Liberation Army against peaceful demon­ strators also spoke louder than any previous verbal reprimands or threats.

60. Wang Dan, "China: Students Will 'Fight to the Very End' for Democracy," Wash­ ington Post, rpt. International Herald Tribune, May 17, 1989. 61. Nathan, supra note 59, p. 183. 62. See Yi Mu and Thompson, supra note 6, p. 179, for a translation of Li Peng's speech declaring martial law. 78 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

A significant and unprecedented feature of China's 1989 popular movement was the major role played by the media. Television viewers reacted more strongly to Li Peng's tone of rage in declaring martial law than to the words of his speech, they were more moved by the sight of unconscious bodies of hunger strikers on stretchers than by their speeches, slogans and banners. No previous Chinese movement had been so public, internally or internationally. Some of the actions of the main players-the Politburo members' visit to weakened hunger striking students in the hospital on the morning of May 18, or the students' demand for a live broadcast of their "dialogue," for exam­ ple-expressed an awareness that they were playing to a mass audi­ ence and they were calculating visual effectiveness. The heady experience of hearing their interviews quoted over or BBC radio, or published in western newspapers, also affected the way student leaders presented themselves. The leadership of the students' movement showed awesome cour­ age. Their strategic planning was flexible, innovative, and creatively responsive to changes in the environment. They created an image of patriotic student demonstrators that won the hearts of the populace. And they were brilliantly successful at an orderly mobilization of over a million people, crowd control, systematic assignments and rotations of monitors and traffic controllers, and maintenance of non-violence. But because leaders were often in effect self-appointed and their positions were only vaguely institutionalized, an individual's personal­ ity and support network could be more important than accountability to an office, a constituency, or a legal code. Bureaucratic problems that arose, including authoritarian decision making, lack of compro­ mise, and indecisiveness, are readily understandable when one consid­ ers the CPC models these students had known; they had no personal or organizational experience with democratic processes or rules of or­ der, pluralism or majority rule--not to mention financial management of large amounts of cash. Some wanted more unity, and less voting and re-voting, while others favored more pluralism and debate. Fi­ nally, the absence of an institutionalized, agreed-upon way to handle conflicts or differences of opinion sometimes resulted in internal splits and hesitation to act. Moreover, the movement was largely spontaneous and reactive; there was no time to plan ahead to establish institutions of governance or to prioritize goals and demands. The students reacted to a rapid succession of events: to Hu Yaobang's death; to the People's Daily's editorial of April 26, 1989; to the anniversary of the May Fourth Movement; to the government's foot-dragging in arranging a dialogue. STUDENT DEMOCRACY MOVEMENT 79

In the absence of recognized far-sighted leadership, much of the time and energy students might have devoted to political discussions and creation of long-term procedures and principles was instead spent on tactical debate about short-term issues of symbolic importance such as whether or not to withdraw from the square. Nevertheless, the 1989 student democracy movement was much more than a learning experience. The truly significant accomplish­ ment of the students was to mobilize around common concerns and demands millions of Chinese in at least eighty cities throughout the country. The students inspired these people to break their silence, and- often for the first time in their lives-to speak out for the princi­ ples they most cared about, to take personal risks for the goal of free­ dom in China. Not only did intellectuals bravely step forward, but also workers and government officials, private entrepreneurs and Party cadres, people from all walks of life. These people crossed a line by following their consciences, and though since the crackdown they have been forced to confess and self-criticize, to deny and repudiate, they will not forget how it felt, during those euphoric days of mid­ May, to tell the truth. Beijing citizens will remember the acts of hero­ ism they witnessed as old ladies defied army trucks: "If you enter the city, you will have to crush me first." In their minds they will re­ create the sense of satisfaction that came from doing what was right, not what one was told to do, and discovering that hundreds and thousands of fellow citizens felt the same way. The galvanizing of support for the Chinese students' democracy movement also crossed China's borders. The international press pres­ ence for the Gorbachev state visit facilitated the transmission of news of the movement to the entire world. Massive demonstrations took place in Hong Kong and elsewhere. The Chinese students' courage inspired people in many other nations, from Eastern to Mongolia, to carry on their own struggles for democratic government. were moved to initiate a wide variety of ongoing support activities. On the government side, not only the current government leaders but the Chinese Communist Party, the People's Liberation Army, and the entire political system lost credibility as a result of the violent and excessive crackdown on the student movement. The Chinese people had excused many "errors" committed under this system of govern­ ment in the past, but the massacre of June 4, 1989, went too far for most to tolerate. The leaders' self-interested response in order to hang onto their own power discredited themselves as individuals and dis­ credited the entire political system which would allow such unpopular 80 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES brutality. Most urban people in China today do not believe the gov­ ernment's version of what happened on June 3-4. In the year that has elapsed since June 4, 1989, it is clear that the China democracy movement is not dead. Part of it has gone under­ ground within China, part of it has emerged overseas. Students are still a major force, and they are still agitating on campuses in Beijing. The "gang of elders" who remain in power are paralyzed; they cannot move forward and they cannot move backward due to internal splits and lack of popular support. Many Chinese citizens feel a sense of emptiness and anticipation; they ask not if but when the democracy movement will arise again. In the meantime, the number of student leaders and intellectuals on the government's "most wanted list" who have managed to hide safely or to escape from the country is clear evidence of support for an unprecedented underground organization from all levels of society. China has for centuries been governed by one-man rule, whether by an emperor, warlord or Communist Party leader. The spring 1989 democracy movement will be a permanent landmark of the moment in Chinese history when millions of people proclaimed they would no longer tolerate such an autocratic system, and demanded freedom and democracy. 5. THE BATI'LE OF BEIJING*

David Aikman

JUNE2 For days, many of Beijing's 10 million residents had slept fitfully. Ever since the first giant student demonstrations in Tiananmen Square on April 16, following the death of China's reform-minded former Communist Party General Secretary Hu Yaobang, the warm spring air had carried a heady fragrance of excitement. The new mood was one part exhilaration, one part uncertainty and a large dose of fear. Not since th'e Communists came to power in 1949 had there been such huge protests in the Chinese capital in favor of freedom and democ­ racy. Not since teenage turned China upside down in the first three years of the 1966-1976 Cultural Revolution had young peo­ ple so unceremoniously disrupted normal life in the city. But the Cul­ tural Revolution's chaos had been deliberately fermented for political purposes by China's Communist Party Chairman, Mao Zedong, and it was he who decided when the demonstrations would end. Now, on the night of June 2, 1989, nearly two weeks had elapsed since an angry Premier Li Peng had declared martial law in sections of Beijing. Dur­ ing this period, China's military commanders had embarrassingly failed to get their troops anywhere near the center of Beijing. For the few hundred students still camping out in army tents in the center of Tiananmen Square, the sense of victory was mixed with a feeling of disquiet. True, convoys of troop-laden trucks that had en­ tered the city when martial law was declared had been turned back to the outskirts by vigilant citizens determined to protect "their" stu­ dents. Crowds of shoppers, off-shift workers and students corralled the troops in their trucks, lectured them on the need to "love the peo­ ple" and respect democracy, plied them with cigarettes, refreshments and food, then, almost condescendingly, sent them back in the direc­ tion they came. Even at the Beijing railroad station, where thousands of troops from the suburbs and distant provinces had later tried to disembark, students seemed to have succeeded in blocking them. Was it really possible that the 3.2 million-strong People's Liberation

• Reprinted by permission of Time, Inc., dated November 1, 1989, from Massacre in Beijing: China~ Struggle for Democracy (New York: Warner Books, 1989). (81) 82 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

Army-the world's second largest military force, obedient to Commu­ nist Party leaders who were themselves hardened by years of combat and civil war-would meekly succumb to civics lessons by 20-year­ olds and hectoring by middle-aged housewives? Some of those 20-year-olds dozing and chatting in the insurrec­ tionary Tiananmen encampment may have believed so---especially the out-of-town students, who had poured into Beijing in the last days of May and now outnumbered the increasingly weary local students. For the newcomers, the atmosphere of the square was intoxicating. Pen­ nants and flags from campuses all over the country fluttered bravely from atop the lines of tents in the stiff spring breeze. The Goddess of Democracy, a 30-foot statue of plaster-covered styrofoam, faced north toward the of Mao Zedong on the Gate of Heavenly Peace. The statue was surrounded by a circle of blue and white pup tents provided by Hong Kong supporters of the pro-democracy movement. Piles of garbage, make-shift tents, student leaders and Western televi­ sion crews had long since taken over the upper balustrade area of the Monument to the People's Heroes. Student marshals prevented crowds of well-wishers and passersby from ducking under a barrier rope on the bottom level. Large banners strung across the monument indicated the new boldness that was infecting students, and indeed all of China's intelligentsia, in the past seven weeks. CONVENE THE NATIONAL PEOPLE'S CONGRESS, IMPLEMENT DEMOC­ RACY, DISMISS LI PENG, BRING AN END TO MARTIAL LAW, they said in huge yellow letters on a red background. Lower down, another message declaimed, WE ARE ON HUNGER STRIKE, WE PROTEST, WE CRY OUT, WE REPENT. Even jaded Western journalists could not but be touched by the naive opti­ mism of China's youth at Tiananmen Square. The more experienced among Beijing student leaders, however, were nervous. Among them was Uerkesh Daolet, 21, an Uighur edu­ cation major at Beijing Normal University who was better known by his , Wuer Kaixi. A dynamic, elfiike figure, Uerkesh had been voted out of the leadership of the Autonomous Students' Union of Beijing Universities, in part for proposing to end the occupa­ tion of the square on grounds that the military was about to take it over by force. Chai Ling, an electrifying orator also from Beijing Nor­ mal University, had taped a tearful interview with ABC News an­ nouncing that she would go into hiding because the entire protest movement, she prophesied, would soon be put down in a bloodbath. Other Beijing students were concerned about a more mundane matter: THE BATILE OF BEUING 83 the "movement," as they called their occupation, was so physically fatigued that it was in danger of breaking up. JUNE3 Not long after midnight on June 3, word swept through the square that the army was on the move again. Convoys of trucks had been spotted in the north of Beijing, in the south and in the west. Oddest of all, thousands of soldiers, unarmed and wearing khaki pants and standard white shirts, were attempting to jog in ranks ten abreast down Changan Avenue, from a starting point in Tongxian County some six miles away from Tiananmen. From the opposite direction, trucks and military buses were gingerly approaching Tiananmen with the rifles, ammunition and other equipment that the jogging troops would need when they reached the city center. In no time, students and sympathizers on bicycles and motorcycles roused Beijing's by now politically savvy citizenry. Peo­ ple swarmed in their shorts and undershirts out of apartment blocks and the city's (alleyways) to surround the invading forces and demonstrate the same extraordinary "" that had kept the military at bay for the previous two weeks. Road blocks of hastily commandeered buses and trucks were set up at key intersections. At the Yanjing Hotel, on Changan Avenue three miles to the west of Tiananmen, the first group of marching uniformed soldiers was sur­ rounded by crowds and searched for weapons. Some of the military vehicles were overturned by citizens on the Y ongdingmen Bridge in southern Beijing. Out west of Muxidi, where the dead straight Changan A venue crosses a canal in its sweep from west to east, tires of military trucks were slashed. If the army wanted a fight, it now had a justification for one.

7 a.m. The last body of foot soldiers, who had jogged into the city, re­ treated eastward down Changan. Sweaty, exhausted and in some cases weeping, they presented a pitiful sight. They had run a gauntlet of invective, abuse, argument and even physical assault on their way into the city. Many had become separated from their officers and were completely disoriented. They had been halted at 3 a.m. just in front of the , a sprawling blocklong complex east of Tiananmen Square. Most were teenage peasant recruits who seemed quite unsure why they had been sent into the city. "We came here to restore or­ der," a soldier told the crowd that had surrounded his unit on the eastern part of Changan. "We were obeying orders. Beijing people 84 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES don't understand us." Crouching in the road nearby, a woman re­ torted, "We do understand you. We do not need you here." Some of the soldiers were cruelly mocked by the crowds who tried to block or taunt them as they moved into town. In some cases refreshments were thrust into their faces as they jogged or staggered along. On both sides-army and citizenry-nerves were stretched taut by the bizarre, cat-and-mouse approach that the military seemed to be taking toward implementing the martial-law decrees. Now, by first light on June 3, an ominous souring of relations between the people of Beijing and the army seemed to be setting in. No one had attempted to steal guns or ammunition from the army on any of the military's previous forays into the city, and the troops them­ selves had in general been treated correctly, sometimes quite well. By 7 a.m., though, students and young workers outside Zhongnanhai were smashing their way into two military buses filled with AK-47s, light machine guns and crates of ammunition. "We are peaceful stu­ dents who love our country," shouted a young man with a white head­ band. "Why must the People's Army threaten the people with guns?" As for the isolated pockets of troops hemmed in at intersections and overpasses around the city, the crowd was not in a mood merely to lecture them. In some places, soldiers were stripped almost naked, chased or struck by angry citizens. Other injured troops had difficulty getting to hospitals as mobs deflated or slashed the tires of military ambulances. Incidents such as these were used by the authorities to justify the mobilization of the army. "Beginning in the small hours of June 3," said Beijing Mayor Chen Xitong in a statement released after the mas­ sacre, "a band of counterrevolutionary thugs incited some people to illegally set up roadblocks, steal the troops' arms and equipment, de­ stroy and bum military vehicles and stop and block martial-law troops from taking up their positions." Time and again, continued the mayor, his charges wildly belying the facts, "they frenziedly stormed Zhongnanhai, the Great Hall of the People, broadcasting stations and other key departments, and looted shops." Wisely, the student leaders had anticipated government attempts to provoke violence, and had kept tight control over their own rank and file, lest they unwittingly abet them. In Chai Ling's taped ac­ count, smuggled out of China to Hong Kong one week after the mas­ sacre, she described how the military had tried to bait the dissidents. "Several army trucks were put deliberately in our hands," she said. "In the trucks, there were weapons and soldiers' coats." On learning that protesters were helping themselves to the contents of the truck, THE BATILE OF BEUING 85 student leaders took action. "We handed all the weapons to the Pub­ lic Security," she stated. "We still have the receipt." By the time Beijing had eaten its early breakfast and set off to work June 3, its people came upon some startling scenes throughout the city: disabled military buses and trucks, their windows smashed and their tires deflated; barricades of buses, trolleys and comman­ deered trucks parked across intersections; and pockets of demoralized soldiers, some of them injured, either trapped by intransigent crowds or wandering around aimlessly in small groups, trying to find their officers. Chinese student leader Wang Dan commented on this latest in a series of military fiascos: "The awareness of the public was very high. That was the reason they couldn't get us." But "they" had not stopped trying. The efforts of China's mili­ tary leaders to penetrate the city had foundered ignominiously so far, but there was no sign at all that the overall strategy was going to be modified. Meanwhile, the first fatalities from the army's latest push occurred. A jeep that formed part of a nine-vehicle convoy racing into town from the east in the early hours of Saturday had skidded out of control on the rain-drenched streets and run into four pedestrians. Three were killed, one of them dragged along under the jeep's bumper as the driver struggled to bring his vehicle under control. When the jeep careened to a halt, the driver jumped out and tried to get away, but was caught and barely escaped a severe beating at the hands of an enraged crowd. Until that moment, the seven weeks of swirling demonstrations in China's capital had produced only a handful of injuries and not a sin­ gle known death. Hours later, came forward to accept blame for the incident, saying that the jeep had been bor­ rowed from the police for a film being prepared for the 40th anniver­ sary of the founding of the People's Republic. But the semi-apology did little to soothe angry emotions. An ugly genie seemed to have been let out of the bottle. On Tiananmen Square, the morning hours of Saturday passed by much as they had during the previous week. One thing was new, though. In a khaki army tent on the upper level of the Monument to the People's Heroes, a new hunger strike was under way. It had started the previous afternoon, and was something of a last-ditch effort by student organizers to rekindle the enthusiasm for protest that had characterized the pro-democracy demonstrations during the first few weeks. Though all four strikers would be considered intellectuals, none was a student. The most prominent of them was Hou Dejian, a well-known and vocalist who had dramatically defected to 86 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

Beijing from Taiwan in 1983. The other three were Liu Xiaobo, a lecturer in the Chinese department of Beijing Normal University; Zhou Tuo, a lecturer in sociology at ; and Gao Xin, former editor of the Beijing Normal University Gazette and a Commu­ nist Party member. Hou had been ambivalent about becoming so visibly involved in the student demonstrations, though he had actively supported them from behind the scenes. The strike was scheduled for 72 hours, but Hou's recording schedule in Hong Kong required him to limit his own involvement to 48 hours. He agreed to take part, he told a friend in Beijing Friday, because he saw no other way to keep up the momen­ tum of the protest movement. "The problem with Chinese intellectu­ als," he said, "is that they are all talk and no action. That is the reason I think I should do [the hunger strike]." At a Friday press conference, the four strikers had told journal­ ists that they had four "basic slogans." In light of the violence that descended upon Beijing less than a day later, they make interesting reading today. "1. We are not against anybody and do not let hatred and violence poison our fight for democracy. 2. We are all responsible for our own past backwardness. 3. We are Chinese citizens. 4. We are not seeking death, but a real and better life." Hou and his three fellow hunger strikers sat inside the darkened tent Saturday as throngs of student supporters and the just plain curi­ ous crowded up to a rope on the lower steps to gape at the scene. White-clad medics occasionally came and went, ensuring that none of the four was in medical danger. From different parts of the square, loudspeakers relaying pro-democracy sentiments from student leaders kept up a cacophony over the heads of the thousands of young people, sightseers and even occasional foreign tourists treading their way through tents and parked bicycles. On Changan A venue on the north side of the square, there were far more bicycles than usual, meandering along to look at the mayhem from the early morning hours. Normal traffic had a hard time mov­ ing. Vehicles traveling west across the square, in fact, were diverted by traffic police south in front of the Great Hall of the People. West of the square, Changan was now closed for a few blocks because the ave­ nue was still obstructed by the weapons and ammunition buses that students had broken into earlier in the morning. Glass and rocks lit­ tered the street, and Beijing's bicyclists wove slowly in and out of groups of pedestrians who also wanted to see the latest evidence of the clash of wills between the army and the people. Further west along Changan, there were still isolated groups of soldiers trapped inside, or THE BATILE OF BElliNG 87 alongside, their trucks, and subjected now to almost constant barrack­ ing and harassment by the cocky citizenry.

2 p.m. The students and the curious youth of Beijing bicycling slowly from one bottleneck to another might have thought at this point that life could possibly continue in this manner almost indefinitely: the army would try, the citizens would react, the army would try again, the citizens would stop them a second time, and so on until, perhaps the government stepped down. But two things had changed. First, as Beijing's inhabitants would find out to their horror later, a military plan was already afoot to crush the pro-democracy movement with full lethal force. Second, both China's military and the People's Armed Police, who are under the control of the Ministry of Public Security and the Defense Minis­ try, had become almost paranoid about the busload of weapons and ammunition that had been broken into earlier in the morning just half a block away from the main entrance to the Zhongnanhai compound on the north side of Changan Avenue. What might happen, the au­ thorities worried, if the peace-loving students lost control of the situa­ tion and mobs of angry workers tried to storm the political heart of Beijing with AK-47s and machine guns? The bus the authorities most worried about was at Liubukou, where Fuyou Street intersects Changan, on the western end of the Zhongnanhai block. Shortly before 2 p.m., loudspeakers operated by the army broadcast orders for students and ordinary citizens to return the guns and ammunition they had taken from the smashed bus and hand over the bus itself. In the milling crowd, there were jeers and snickers. Suddenly, at 2:10 p.m. fear swept through the thousands of people around the buses. Wearing helmets and wielding nightsticks, some 3,000 People's Armed Police stormed out of Zhongnanhai's main entrance and blocked off Changan A venue. They then tore into the crowd around the Liubukou weapons bus. Rocks were thrown, people started running and tear-gas shells were fired directly into the crowd. It was the first known occasion in the 40-year history of the People's Republic that tear gas had been employed in Beijing against the city's inhabitants. Later, an angry student showed an American reporter a discarded tear-gas shell stained with blood where it had smashed into someone. "Metak 38m MN-05" was written on the shell casing. For several minutes the crowd fought back. But the Armed Po­ lice displayed greater resolution than security forces had at any time in 88 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES the seven previous weeks of demonstrations. Men, women, young and old were clubbed or smashed openly by tear-gas canisters if they got in the way. Ambulances roared up, sirens wailing and blue lights flash­ ing, to remove the first casualties of the battle for Beijing. Furious now, young people gathered up any bricks and rocks they could find to hurl back at the riot police, who seemed to be changing the equation in the struggle. The crowds thickened and began smashing street lamps and the windows of army buses parked on the south side of the street. Several rocks were hurled at the very gate of the Zhongnanhai compound. Overwhelmed by numbers, the riot police fell back down Fuyou Street, finally taking refuge inside Zhongnanhai via the compound's west gate. Possibly fearing that the crowds might attempt a frontal assault on Zhongnanhai, about 40 soldiers with clubs came out of the main gate and stood shoulder to shoulder in front of the entrance. Though jeered and insulted, they made no effort to attack the swirling mobs in front of them. A young rock thrower who came too close to the gate was smashed to the ground by the troops before managing to wriggle free and make his escape.

3 p.m. Within less than an hour, a large crowd had surrounded a mili­ tary bus at the Xidan intersection, one long block to the west of Zhongnanhai along Changan. The bus, containing military supplies and weapons, held about 80 troops. The crowd lectured the troops, admonishing them not to kill the people. For their part, the soldiers replied politely that they were only following orders. Later in the day the bus remained at the intersection but all its windows had been smashed. Inside, the frightened soldiers had stuffed bedrolls into the windows to keep out the mob. After the massacre, the bus was found empty and burned. Meanwhile, a new locus of tension between troops and students had come into existence outside the western side, that is, the back, of the Great Hall of the People. Just as the People's Armed Police were surging out of Zhongnanhai, 2,000 or so helmeted and backpacked troops had come marching out of a ground floor side entrance to the Great Hall, which has long been known to have underground passages that connect it with the Zhongnanhai compound on the other side of Changan. The troops may have been secreted into the Great Hall via Zhongnanhai, and it is possible that they had even made their way to Zhongnanhai itself via Beijing's underground network of bomb-shelter tunnels built under the orders of Mao Zedong in the late . For- THE BATILE OF BElliNG 89 eigners had occasionally been shown a glimpse of the tunnels, one of which was entered through a secret, electrically operated sliding door in a clothing store on Da Sha La Street. The tunnels were said by Chinese officials to extend for miles under the city's streets and to be capable of protecting much of the city's population from all but a nu­ clear direct hit. The Great Hall troops may not have intended to proceed very far, but from the perspective of the Tiananmen students and the Beijing citizenry now supporting them, the only obstacle separating them from the square was the Great Hall itself. The soldiers were already worryingly close to the political heart of the pro-democracy move­ ment. Within minutes, thousands of students and citizens had gath­ ered from the square and nearby streets to block the movement of the soldiers, who were from the 67th Army. Two city buses were also driven up and parked near the Great Hall, cutting off the soldiers from Changan A venue. Thousands of people now surrounded the troops, who were instructed by their officers to sit down on the sidewalk and roadway in the shade. There was a lot of shouting, and many young men climbed atop the commandeered buses for a better view and to observe the troops more closely. When an American network camera crew arrived on the scene, the crowd cheered lustily. But it was already a hot day, and the officers were in a sour mood. As some of the students pushed too close to the edge of the sitting troops, some of their commanders took off their belts and swung them into the students' faces, drawing blood and infuriating the crowd. Groups of students, in tum, would from time to time snatch a helmet from a sitting soldier and run off with it, to a roar of delight from those nearby. On Tiananmen Square for much of the afternoon, stu­ dents triumphantly wheeled around flatbed bicycles with trophies of their various confrontations with the army mounted atop them: hel­ mets, J.D. cards, officers' caps, even an occasional rifle.

5 p.m. Spectators on the western steps of the Great Hall watched the slow-moving confrontation between the crowd and the troops with interest, occasionally shouting insults up at staff workers who were looking out of second-story windows in the hall. "Li Peng, step down!" was one popular demand hurled upward in unison by a group of young people. Then, impatient at the ugly reaction of the belt­ wielding officers, angrier members of the crowd picked up stones and began throwing them into the ground floor compound areas of the Great Hall, smashing windows in a small guard booth and in the hall 90 CONTEMPORARY ASIAN STUDIES SERIES itself. A few students with headbands tried to reason with the troops and their officers, and white-coated students from the Beijing Union Medical College set up a temporary first-aid station right in a patch of the roadway amid the besieged troops. Bloody-faced students contin­ ued to stagger out, victims of the belt buckles of an increasingly angry officer corps. The rising anger of crowds at intersections along Changan all the way to the Military Museum of the Chinese People's Revolution was now being expressed in rock throwing at the People's Armed Police and several government buildings. Windows were smashed not just in the Great Hall, but also in the Propaganda Department of the Com­ munist Party Central Committee and the Ministry of Radio, Film and Television. Several guards at these buildings, as well as Zhongnanhai, had by late afternoon been injured by flying rocks. One reason for the crowd's fury was the violence employed by the riot police attempting to clear Changan in front of Zhongnanhai and to recover the blockaded weapons and supply buses. A woman caught by riot troops at the Xidan intersection in mid-afternoon, for example, was kicked to the ground by five policemen, then beaten with trunche­ ons as one held her hair. Nearby, a man was cornered by three police­ men who beat him about the face and chest for a full minute before letting him go. His face and upper body streaming with blood, he staggered off, barely conscious. News of these ferocious incidents flashed back and forth from crowd to crowd in a one-mile radius of Tiananmen Square, along with scattered and panicky accounts of yet another troop movement in some part or other of the city. Around 5 p.m., several hundred young workers donned their yellow construction helmets and headed for Tiananmen with makeshift pikes and clubs, as though preparing for a violent confrontation with the military. A crowd of about 1,000 ordi­ nary citizens, meanwhile, pushed down the wall of a construction site near the Xidan intersection and made off with tools, bricks, reinforc­ ing bars and anything else that seemed usable as a weapon. To the beleaguered authorities of both Beijing municipality and the Communist Party Central Committee, the new developments were the stuff of every Communist leadership's nightmare: the "people" turning against the "people's leadership." Though the pro-democracy movement had meticulously avoided any public attacks on the Com­ munist Party, or indeed upon socialism itself throughout most of the long weeks of escalating protest, such self-restraint was evaporating fast. The June 14 official government report on the massacre asserts that Tiananmen loudspeakers in the hands of the Autonomous Work- THE BATTLE OF BElliNG 91

ers' Union were broadcasting appeals "to take up arms and overthrow the government." It is unlikely that the union was saying anything of the sort, but it is possible that some individual workers were calling for extreme action against the authorities. Some of the many worker and student rallies proceeding on the square in late afternoon had their own independent bullhorns. Who knows what was said in the flush of antipolice anger? Words, though, are seldom merely words in the dense legal my­ thology of Communist power. Even a whispered yearning for weap­ ons by a hunger-striking student in the comer of a dark tent would have been seized upon as evidence of anti-Communist intent. For the martial-law authorities in Beijing, whatever insurrectionary sentiments were publicly voiced around 5 p.m. at Tiananmen Square on Saturday seemed to serve as the judicial trigger for much that happened in the next few hours.

The Plan Just how many troops were outside Beijing may never be pre­ cisely known. Nonetheless, a source in close touch with the White House throughout the crisis said flatly that there were as many as 350,000, drawn from all seven of China's military region commands. Deng Xiaoping had summoned the regional commanders to a meeting in Wuhan to obtain their support for the crackdown. Western intelli­ gence was not privy to those confidential discussions, but once the troops began to actually enter Beijing, it was a relatively simple matter to keep track of them. Makeshift tactical orders were being transmit­ ted by radio in the clear, without scrambling or encryption. As are­ sult, U.S. intelligence agencies using satellites could listen in on radio communications right down to the battalion level. Deng himself was kept informed of all the major troop move­ ments and decisions, and had insisted that elements of all Chinese mil­ itary regions take part in the final crackdown on the students. This was a precautionary measure both to prevent the emergence of an all­ powerful military warlord should the military operation prove a strik­ ing success, and to spread the responsibility among as many units as possible should it be a failure. On his return from Wuhan, Deng re­ mained in the Beijing area for a few days, but then left once more, on May 28, for the resort of Beidaihe. Equipped with com­ fortable villas for the use of high Chinese officials on vacation, Beidaihe had several times in the past served as the locale of important Chinese policy gatherings when Deng-and before him Mao Zedong-needed to forge agreement at high levels in a less formal and 92 CoNTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

more confidential setting than was possible in Beijing. During the last days of May and the first one or two days of June, Deng presided over the planning for the military operation and double-checked the polit­ ical allegiances of both his military commanders and the political lead­ ership at Politburo level. Deng, despite his semi-retirement in 1987 from day-to-day administration, still held the one vital lever for con­ trolling political power in the People's Republic: chairmanship of the Central Military Commission. The last details in place, Deng evidently returned to the Beijing area before June 3. He did not, however, go back to his official resi­ dence. Instead, he went to the , where some senior Party officials have villas in a well-guarded area away from the prying eyes of foreigners or ordinary Chinese. A temporary military command post appears to have been set up nearby when the assault on Beijing began. It is possible that most of China's top leadership still consid­ ered loyal to Deng also met there, until it was apparent that the mili­ tary would gain the upper hand in Beijing. Then, on June 6, three days after the crackdown began, the martial-law authorities moved the tactical military command post into the Great Hall of the People. Even with a determined effort to involve every major military re­ gion in the Beijing assault, Deng left nothing to chance in his delega­ tion of authority. His primary conduit was President Yang Shangkun, who, along with the already disgraced party General Secretary Zhao Ziyang, was a vice-chairman of the Central Military Commission. Yang, in tum, was related by blood or marriage to at least three of the key personnel entrusted with completing the takeover of Tiananmen Square: • His son-in-law, , chief of the general staff of the P.L.A. and thus the one man in a position to coordi­ nate all military deployments within China. • His younger brother, , chief of the general political department of the P.L.A. • His nephew (and Yang Baibing's son), Yang Jianhua, commander of the 27th Army, a unit within the that is based in in Hebei province. The detailed operational planning of the troop movements into Beijing was in the hands of Chi Haotian, whose final instructions from Deng Xiaoping could probably be summarized as follows: use whatever force necessary to complete the suppression of the student movement. As Chief of Staff, Chi bears major responsibility for the violence unleashed upon Beijing's citizenry by his troops. Yet he al- THE BATILE OF BEUING 93

most certainly hoped that firepower would not be necessary during the operation. For one thing, there was profound unease throughout the officer corps at the use of the military for purposes of political control. For another, China's field commanders, like the field commanders of virtually any other regular army in the world, probably dreaded the prospect of subjecting their troops to the serious logistical problems of moving around within a densely populated city, and especially of ex­ posing them to the fury of the aroused and politically radicalized populace. In retrospect, it is obvious that the operational plan to take Tiananmen Square envisaged the use of a tough and heavily armed field army as a last resort. None of the military units deployed in the initial probing forays into the city on the night of June 2 had been provided with ammunition. Some of them, as noted earlier, did not even have weapons. There were sound military and political reasons for that caution. The 38th Army, based at Baoding, 90 miles from Beijing, was composed of officers and troops native to the Beijing area. A number of the students demonstrating in Tiananmen Square had even done their reserve training in the 38th. Many officers of the unit had relatives or friends who were students. Politically, the 38th Army may have been the P.L.A. unit most sympathetic to student arguments and thus least psychologically suited to carry out the task of sup­ pressing them. In fact, tanks from the 38th Army were used early on in the approach to Tiananmen, but they were not armed and their turret-mounted heavy machine guns were never used against demon­ strators. Several unit commanders were later reported to have been removed, and some even executed, for refusing to move aggressively against Beijing. Had any of their soldiers been armed, these officers might have turned the guns against the troops that were prepared to suppress the population. Low motivation was apparent in other units brought into the vi­ cinity of Beijing from China's seven military regions. From in Sichuan Province, home of Deng Xiaoping, came elements of the 70th Army; from Shenyang, elements of the 40th and the 65th (with the 65th containing some troops from ). From Datong came elements of the 28th Army. These units, as well as others that have not been identified, formed part of the military stranglehold that Chi Haotian hoped to put into place on the center of Beijing during the afternoon and evening of June 3. Some had made their way to Beijing by road, but the bulk of troop movements evidently took place by air, with the Nanyuan military airfield south of Beijing being heav­ ily used in the final hours before the June 3 assault. As for the Chinese 94 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES air force, responsible for troop movement by air, there were repeated though unconfirmed reports that its commander, Wang Hai, had been opposed to the initial declaration of martial law in Beijing. "The air force had nothing to do with this," Wang Hai supposedly said when the scope of the Beijing massacre became apparent. It is not clear exactly how many of China's were in place around Beijing when the final assault took place, but it could have been as many as ten, even if not all were at full strength. Besides the 27th, 28th, 38th and 65th, there were divisions or smaller units from the 16th, 17th and 69th. To add real combat muscle to these forces, at least one regiment of the 15th airborne division, from the Wuhan mili­ tary district, was also on hand. Troops from most or perhaps all of these units were involved in the military occupation of Beijing that took place once Tiananmen Square had been taken. But one field army behaved with particular ferocity and brutality on the night of June 3--4: the 27th Army under the command of Yang Jianhua, Yang Shangkun's nephew. Some of its troops had been recruited into the army only as a last resort to avoid prison sentences. Many were com­ bat-toughened veterans of China's 1979 battle with Vietnam. The men of the 27th, generally older than the teenage recruits who had so dis­ mally failed to penetrate Beijing in convoys or in jogging units, were mostly of peasant background, and they seemed to feel nothing in common with the young people of the Chinese capital. No doubt be­ cause of their presumed impermeability to propaganda blandishments within Beijing proper, they were entrusted with the task of ensuring that, whatever else happened, China's military would secure a tactical victory on Tiananmen Square. Chi Haotian's plan called for the 27th to be held in reserve to the east and west of the city, in case other units failed to secure the square and real shooting was needed. But the unfolding operation was a lengthy one, additionally complicated by uncertainty over which troops would be able to reach the center of Beijing from which axis of approach. From the south, for example, troops moving toward Tiananmen from Nanyuan airfield had a more difficult task than those scheduled to make the approach from the west or the east. That is because none of the north-south streets of Beijing offer the broad and uninterrupted axis of approach to Tiananmen provided by Changan Avenue. Navigating through crooked intersections around the Tem­ ple of Heaven Park, troop trucks and armored personnel carriers were easily blocked by commandeered buses and other vehicles in the Y ongdingmen area, south of Tiananmen. On Dongzhimenwai Street, which leads into Beijing from the air- THE BATILE OF BElliNG 95 port, a convoy of some 50 trucks was finally halted around 5:30p.m. when students and local citizens overturned a vehicle and completely blocked the relatively narrow road. As the crowd grew and citizens surrounded the halted trucks to talk to the troops within them, several buses were placed across the main intersection to prevent any further efforts to bring in troops from this sector.

6 p.m. A strange quiet now came over the center of Beijing, as though each side in the approaching clash was sizing up the other. There were still thousands of people and bicycles in and around Tiananmen Square itself. Changan remained closed off in front of Zhongnanhai. But there had been no more tear gas or fighting since early afternoon. Behind the Great Hall of the People, crowds of students and citizens continued to hector each other and clash in small ways with the thousands of troops hemmed in on the roadway. Nonetheless, it now seemed clear that the soldiers were unlikely to attempt any aggressive action for the remainder of the evening. Pockets of stranded troops and trucks continued to fidget amid humming crowds in different parts of the city, though with little sign that violence was about to erupt. Meanwhile, the authorities in Beijing were preparing to warn the city that matters had now reached the point of no return. At 6:30 p.m., the municipal government and the martial-law authorities issued a new emergency statement. Broadcast repeatedly on radio and televi­ sion, it called on residents of the city to "heighten their vigilance" and to stay off the streets and away from Tiananmen Square. Workers were urged to stay at their jobs or remain in their homes. The stu­ dents in the square almost certainly paid little attention to the emer­ gency statement, any more than did Beijing residents caught up in the all-consuming task of keeping the army at bay. After all, had not there been one "serious warning" after another ever since the original martial-law declaration on May 20? Why should this one be any different? The tear gasings, beatings and other injuries on Saturday after­ noon had all occurred in the vicinity of Zhongnanhai. Yet it was the presence of fully armed troops so close to Tiananmen Square that ~ee'?ed to have students and citizens most worried. The belt lashings tnfttcted on some of the students by officers went on intermittently until evening, and sometimes bricks and bottles were thrown back and forth. Whenever things seemed to be getting out of hand or the troops 96 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES looked as though they were about to fight back, the crowd would shout out in unison, "Don't fight! Don't fight!"

8:30p.m. Suddenly the orders seemed to have changed. At about 8:30 p.m., some 2,000 men clambered to their feet, formed up in ranks, then marched uneventfully back into the ground-floor gate of the Great Hall from which they had originally emerged. At least one cri­ sis now appeared resolved. Perhaps others might be defused in the same nonviolent way. That was not to be. Possibly as part of the decision made around 5 p.m. by the martial-law authorities, new waves of troops began surg­ ing into the city along whatever axes were not already blocked. When about 40 trucks filled with troops came down the first ring road to the Jianguomenwai overpass, just two miles to the east of the square along Changan, they were also stopped by citizens. This time the soldiers sensed the mood was not at all friendly and clutched their rifles ner­ vously. Some of the crowd clambered over the halted trucks or tried to disable them by removing parts of the engines. As diplomats brought their families out onto the balconies of the Jianguomenwai foreign compound to watch, a tense standoff developed. Meanwhile, the military was not giving up. Yet another contin­ gent of about 1,200 men, helmeted and armed, had somehow ap­ proached undetected along Qianmen West Road, just to the southwest of Tiananmen. Once again, thousands of young people streamed to­ ward it from the square, which was now illuminated brightly by the floodlights on huge lamp standards surrounding Tiananmen. An ar­ ticulated bus, jammed to capacity with young people, 50 to 60 of them perched dangerously on the roof, lurched out of its temporary location in front of the eastern steps of the Great Hall-that is, facing the squar~traight toward the intersection of Qianmen West with the square itself. As TV crews turned their own lights on the bewildered and hemmed-in troops, the bus shuddered to a halt diagonally across Qianmen West, the newest sally in the people's guerrilla traffic block­ ade. Harangued, squeezed between the crowd and obviously ex­ hausted, the soldiers waited passively for new orders against a background din of shouts, the tinkling of bicycle bells and the now more sinister, consistent ee-aw, ee-aw of arriving and departing ambu­ lances. Finally, the officers ordered the men to line up and march back down Qianmen to the west. As they did so, there was a roar of approval from the crowd, which once again drifted back to the square. Not long after this, yet another group of troops, this time un- THE BATTLE OF BElliNG 97

armed, tried to double-time into the square from the east. It is not clear from where they had come, but they were literally collared by hundreds of angry citizens just in front of the Beijing Hotel. Several of the soldiers were beaten on the spot, while others retreated north. Probably no one in Beijing at this moment could have grasped exactly what was taking place all over town. Great caravans of trucks, with armored personnel carriers behind them, lay backed up along at least four axes into town: east along Changan; west along Changan (with about seven miles separating the two main pincer arms of the approaching 27th Army); south along Street that, for about seven long blocks, heads due north into Qianmen guarding the south of Tiananmen; and from the airport to the northeast. Tires had been slashed, bottles and rocks thrown and the troops often beaten up and chased away from their trucks. Commandeered city buses and trucks had been jammed into dozens of intersections by angry and frightened citizens in the desperate hope that they would somehow keep the army out of the city center. Broken glass, rocks and pieces of brick covered the usually litter-free streets in the center of the Chinese capital. Yet the military was inexorably closing in, coiling itself for the final strike against the pro-democracy movement. As if temporarily flitting in from another universe-though he was probably at the Western Hills command post at this time-Premier Li Peng appeared on television late in the evening to give a speech on environmental problems. He had not been seen or heard from in public for nine days. In Tiananmen Square, the final target of the advancing troops, an eerie calm prevailed. Several thousand students and their supporters were milling around, listening to speeches, catching snatches of news from around the city from the student-controlled loudspeakers, gazing at the Goddess of Democracy or at the tent containing the hunger strikers on the Monument to the People's Heroes. BBC senior corre­ spondent Kate Adie remembered being impressed by the confident mood of the bystanders. "It was a real atmosphere of a Saturday night on the town," she recalled. "It was not tense. There was a sort of I­ think-we've-done-it feeling." Hawkers selling meat on skewers unconcernedly plied their trade in the southwest of the square, not far from the malodorous assem­ blage of temporary outdoor toilets. Couples wandered about, hand in hand. A ceremony--small but, in the context of the pro-democracy movement, important-was unfolding. , then the director of the Political Science Institute of the Chinese Academy of Social Sci­ ences, was delivering a speech in honor of the formal opening of the 98 CoNTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

University of Democracy, a sort of unofficial colloquium of Chinese academics who support political and social pluralism and want to ex­ pose Chinese young people to the underlying philosophical concepts. (Yan, a supporter of Zhao Ziyang, later escaped from China and took his campaign for democracy education among Chinese abroad with him.) His remarks were brief, as befitted an evening that was still rap­ idly unfolding. When he finished speaking firecrackers were set off to honor the occasion. They were the last nonlethal explosions heard in Beijing that night.

10 p.m. The killing began less than four miles west of Tiananmen Square, along Changan. Without warning, the 27th Army opened fire on dem­ onstrators at Muxidi Bridge. That landmark, over a canal that drains the lake in , a few blocks to the north, is the second and last major bridge before Changan reaches Tiananmen. Earlier in the evening, it had become a junkyard of trolleys and buses as group after group of citizens had sought to make the way into the city center impassable. West of the bridge, long lines of trucks and armored per­ sonnel carriers (APCs) belonging to the 27th waited impatiently to move on. Shortly before 10 p.m., the troops were given the order to clear the obstacles, disperse the crowds using whatever means necessary and keep moving. First, tear-gas shells were fired into the crowds, and soldiers with truncheons ran forward on foot, beating anyone who got in the way. The troops ran around or between the blockading buses, looking for people to hit. Then, infuriated, the crowd rallied and started fighting back, hurling rocks and bottles at the soldiers and forcing them to retreat. Molotov cocktails started smashing into the buses and the troop trucks trying to nudge forward. Some youths brought rugs from nearby apartments, doused them with gasoline, placed them on or in the buses and ignited them, attempting to create a wall of flame through which the incoming troops would have to move. As the rain of bottles, rocks and Molotov cocktails intensified, the first shots rang out. At the beginning, the troops did not seem to be shooting at people so much as over their heads, but the distinction quickly vanished. Within minutes, AK-47 barrels were lowered and bodies began falling on Changan A venue and on the side streets nearby. The troops pushed forward again and the crowds once more fell back. Heavy equipment was moved up to push the burning buses and trucks out of the way. This too was attacked. So were municipal fire THE BATILE OF BElliNG 99

trucks that were summoned to douse the blazing buses but that had to retreat when they themselves became the targets of a withering bar­ rage of fire bombs and rocks. Gas tanks exploded and the sky turned into an orange inferno sliced through by occasional tracer bullets. "Fascists! Fascists!" the crowd chanted after a volley of gunfire would crackle and ricocheting AK-47 rounds smashed into walls, pavement and people. As the advance proceeded, one troop truck or APC after another was set on fire. Within an hour of the assault on Muxidi Bridge, twelve army vehicles had been burned out in a four-mile stretch of Changan. Meanwhile, virtually every military vehicle crawling slowly into the city from the west had to fight off attacks by Molotov cock­ tails. The troops themselves were no longer aiming simply at rioters but in virtually every direction where there was a crowd of people. Ordinary citizens were cut down in apartment buildings lining Changan. In Nos. 22 and 23, residences reserved for senior govern­ ment officials or retired Party leaders, there were several deaths and injuries, including at least one official at the vice-ministerial level. An old woman was struck in the head and died instantly while she was cleaning her teeth. A travel agent from Oregon staying at the nearby watched the carnage in disbelief from his balcony, but he had to duck as bullets smacked into the hotel near his room. He was then warned by public security officials that anyone observing the scene from the balcony might be shot at. The warning was no bluff. When the American went downstairs into the lobby, plainclothes officers from the Ministry of State Security darted into the hotel and shot in cold blood a Chinese who had taken refuge there. The body was dragged across the carpet, leaving a dark stream of blood in its wake. Shortly afterward, army sharpshooters took up positions in several of the Minzu Hotel's windows, firing both into the street and into buildings they suspected might be used by demonstrators to fire on the army. After the military had taken com­ plete control of the city, the authorities repeatedly maintained that some of the automatic rifles and machine guns stolen from army buses early Saturday morning had been used against the military coming into the city. That was possible, though there was no independent evidence to support the assertion. Firing from trucks and in the street, the incoming troops were now aiming low. As a student near him was hit in the leg, Associated Press correspondent John Pomfret heard the youth cry out as he col­ lapsed, "Live fire! Live fire!" Many of the students were slow to grasp that message, though blood was now thick on the streets and side- 100 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES walks. Determined pedicab or freight bicyclists were frantically pedal­ ing back and forth to nearby hospitals with the latest victims of the mayhem. The cacophony was uninterrupted: deafening volleys of AK-47 rounds, the heavy pop of tear-gas canisters, the crunch of metal against metal as tracked military vehicles pushed blazing wreck­ age out of the path of the incoming trucks and APCs, the downpour of bottles and rocks smashing into military vehicles and immobilized buses, shouts of anger and abuse at the troops, screams of the wounded, the wail of ambulances and the whoomph of gasoline explosions. Just east of the square, several thousand people had gathered on and around the pedestrian overpass at the intersection of Dongdan Street and Changan. There was no violence or shooting here, but three rows of buses had already been parked across the avenue to block any vehicles coming in from the east. The crowd, aware of the fighting now going on west of the square, clearly expected the troops to come into town from the east at any point. John Landy, New Delhi bureau chief for· United Press International, was surprised to come across about 800 soldiers, surrounded by crowds who were now screaming at them, sitting in the middle of Beijingzhan Street, the broad road leading perpendicularly off Changan to the Beijing railroad station. The soldiers were armed with automatic rifles and had obvi­ ously been there a long time. But they looked befuddled and unsure of themselves. Landy and some colleagues, exhausted from a long day's reporting, ducked into a Korean restaurant in an alley off Beijingzhan Street. The proprietor offered the reporters beer, food and soft drinks. The vague presence of attractive young women in the background soon became apparent to the reporters: in the midst of the battle for Beijing, they had wandered into a brothel.

11 p.m. Back at Muxidi, the battle was raging. Incredibly, the troops had made little forward progress. Pierre Hurel, a correspondent for the French magazine Paris-Match, watched as a noncommissioned officer stood up in a jeep and bellowed at his troops through a megaphone, "Charge, you bunch of cowards! Clear away all that!" Some of the soldiers then hurled strange grenades that exploded as they hit the ground but failed to produce much noise. As the troops charged clumsily forward, the crowd briefly retreated, then regrouped amid a new hail of bottles and rocks from all across the road. "Fascists! Fas­ cists!" the crowd kept shouting as a group of four students, stripped to the waist and standing to face the soldiers alone in front of a blazing THE BATILE OF BEUING 101

barricade, banged together the poles on which the scarlet banners ?f their universities were flying. Around 11:30 p.m., Hurel watched m astonishment as hundreds of new troops jumped out of trucks backed up along Changan and riflemen coolly fanned out to take up firing positions against the stone throwers. Next to Hurel, and close to the canal flowing under Muxidi Bridge, the T shirt of a 15-year-old ex­ ploded in red as an AK-4 7 round smashed into his chest. From be­ hind a tree, Hurel caught sight of the army sniper leaning against the side of a bus and calmly taking aim again. As Hurel took off with the screaming crowd away from the deadly volleys, a bullet slammed across his lower back, drawing blood but miraculously missing both his kidneys and his liver. After a quick swig of bourbon and some stitches inserted by a German doctor, the journalist went back to the streets. Hurel, like the majority of Western reporters, had concentrated on the fierce fighting along the western sector of Changan as the 27th Army slugged its way toward Tiananmen Square. The focus made sense. As the Chinese authorities would later admit, more than 300 military vehicles-tanks, trucks, APCs and jeeps-were "obstructed or besieged" along Changan A venue west of Tiananmen. But the con­ voys trying to approach the city center from Nanyuan airfield in the south were having a nightmare too. The intersections were obstructed by buses, trucks, bicycles, even furniture. Moreover, the narrower streets in this part of town made it easier for demonstrators to attack the trucks at close range. Dozens of trucks and APCs were hit by Molotov cocktails and burned. The troops fired at the demonstrators, and shortly before midnight some of the fiercest encounters anywhere in the city were taking place on the roads north from the . Journalists observing events from balconies on the upper floors of the Beijing Hotel watched orange machine-gun tracer fire crisscrossing the sky about half a mile south of the square. Several civilians were shot down not far from the Kentucky Fried Chicken franchise south of the square.

JUNE4 The four hunger strikers in the tent and the other students still gathered around Tiananmen Square's Monument to the People's He­ roes had begun to hear reports of the killings that had been taking place at Muxidi to the west. A young woman covered in blood came rushing from Changan and spoke in a loud emotional voice to the stu­ dents and supporters gathered around the monument. The blood­ stains were not her own, she explained, but came from wounded 102 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES victims she had helped carry away from the line of fire. Her listeners were horrified. Some students nearby had armed themselves with makeshift bamboo spears, and several workers had already banded to­ gether to resist the military with whatever puny weapons they could find. But political scientist Y an Jiaqi, still perhaps hopeful of some miraculously peaceful end to the day's violence, appealed for a concili­ atory approach. "Ifthe soldiers leave Beijing," he said, "we can forget the rest [of what they have done]." What "rest"? his listeners may have wondered. The indiscrimi­ nate shooting, the beatings, the headlong destruction wrought by ad­ vancing Chinese troops? One of the most gruesome events of the night was about to occur a few miles east along Changan, where some 40 army trucks, each with about ten soldiers, had been blocked on the Jianguomenwai overpass for nearly four hours. They had tried to move onto Changan from the ring road, which passes under the over­ pass in a north-south direction. More than 5,000 students and citizens had gathered on the bridge, and they had already pushed seven of the trucks, complete with troops in them, onto the middle of the overpass to serve as an obstacle for military convoys that might be coming from the east. Just after midnight, a lone armored recovery vehicle--essen­ tially a tank without a turret that is used to tow disabled armored vehicles-roared eastward toward the overpass from the direction of Tiananmen, though no one was quite sure where it had started. As the crowds scampered to safety, the driver managed to negotiate thenar­ row space still left between vehicles on the overpass, then roared to­ ward the Jianguo Hotel, a popular, Western-managed watering hole conveniently close to the Jianguomenwai and Qijiayuan foreign compounds. Then, to everyone's amazement, the vehicle swung around and headed back toward the overpass. As it approached, it accelerated to about 50 m.p.h. Once more the thick crowds on the overpass scat­ tered to either side of the road. Less fortunate were the students and soldiers sitting and squatting atop the trucks in the middle of the over­ pass. This time the armored recovery vehicle made no effort to steer through the parked trucks. Crunching relentlessly over hastily aban­ doned bicycles, it smashed at full speed into one of the parked army trucks. That vehicle toppled instantly, sending flying from its canvas roof about a dozen soldiers and civilians who had been perched there discussing the immorality of the army's assault on the square. One of the civilians, a short young man with matching pale jacket and pants and black cotton shoes, was smashed into the pavement with such vio­ lence that his brains spilled out on the road. The body lay curled in a THE BATILE OF BEIJING 103 pool of blood for four days before the military finally allowed its re­ moval. A soldier with a serious head injury was quickly placed on a flatbed pickup truck and taken to the hospital, still clutching his AK- 47 rifle. The crowd reaction to this ramming of one military vehicle by another was immediate. "This is the most terrible scene I've ever seen in my whole life," said a visibly shaken Mao Xiangdong, 25, a former computer salesman. "The leaders don't care about our lives at all." Angry groups from the crowd then dragged several of the frightened and equally horrified soldiers, all from the Shenyang-based 39th Army, out of the trucks to view the civilian corpse. "Look at what they've done to your brother!" one screamed. "How can you bear this?" A third kept shouting, "Shameless! Inhuman!" Several of the troops unashamedly started crying as the crowd pleaded with them to abandon their positions. "Down with Li Peng!" the crowd chanted. "Bum Li Peng to death!" Beside the truck not far from the bridge, a tall, lean Chinese man in his 60s lectured a junior officer sitting in the passenger seat of a truck. "I was a soldier for 40 years," he bellowed in a thick, provincial accent. "Watching what you've been doing these days, I cannot find any place to hide and cry. In 1949, when we moved into Beijing, the people offered us water to drink. Can you expect them to do the same now?" Joe Kahn, a reporter for , was following the murderous armored recovery vehicle on his bicycle as it careened down Changan back toward Tiananmen. Just after the vehicle left the scene of the ramming on the overpass, it crushed a row of abandoned bicycles by the roadside and seriously injured an old woman who was too slow getting out of the way. Then it vanished as mysteriously as it had first appeared. Just minutes earlier, not long after midnight, a lone APC had broken through the obstacle course along Changan into Tiananmen Square from the west, roared across the north of the square, then dis­ appeared in an easterly direction. Less than half an hour later, an­ other APC rolled into the square, this time from the southeast. It drove north alongside the museums of the Chinese Revolution and Chinese History, then hit a metal barrier that the students had erected for the purpose of halting just such vehicles. It stopped momentarily, got its tracks caught, then tried to back away. But the crowd was onto it in a fury. Smashing metal bars against its side and further entan­ gling its tracks, the mob then piled clothing and other material atop the hull, doused it with gasoline and set it on fire. When some of the students objected that the driver would be incinerated if he was not 104 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

permitted to get out, the crowd shouted back, "It's okay. He's not a human being." The driver and whoever else was inside the APC quickly burned to death. The vehicle, No. 003 painted in white atop the camouflage pattern on its hull, was the first Chinese military vehi­ cle to come to a halt in the square, and the first to be destroyed. Not long afterward, another APC came up from the south toward Changan. A bus was driven into it to prevent it from moving back toward the west. Then it too was set afire, but the crew jumped out. They had barely got a few yards from their blazing vehicle before be­ ing set upon by the mob and savagely beaten. An American student who was close to the incident and tried to prevent the mob from kill­ ing the soldiers was himself badly beaten. An hour later the APC was still burning. The fate of its occupants was unknown. Other youths in the crowd were trying to pull down or otherwise disable the remote video cameras mounted on lamp standards up and down Changan A venue in the vicinity of the square. Their instinct was correct. Footage from the cameras, which had been installed os­ tensibly for traffic monitoring, was later screened again and again on television by the authorities, both to construct an image of the pro­ democracy demonstrators as wanton rioters and to identify those the authorities sought to arrest.

1 a.m. As the truck and APC columns from the south fought their way toward Tiananmen, laying down a blanket of tear gas and rifle fire, the first regular infantry troops moved into the square from the south. They were sweaty and exhausted, and many of them were injured. They slumped down to rest in front of Chairman Mao's Memorial Hall. But they had little respite. Crowds quickly formed, and a rain of bottles and rocks fell upon them. Some of the soldiers were badly injured in this new barrage, but there were apparently no medics among them, and it was impossible for military ambulances to get through into the square. A squad of riot police that arrived to clear away the mob came under a deadly hail of bottles and rocks. By now, however, troops were beginning to move into the out­ skirts of the square from all sides. Several hundred of them, armed with long sticks but equipped with neither rifles nor bayonets, came into the square from the southeast. They walked between the Museum of the Chinese Revolution and the Hong Kong material supply sta­ tion, a temporary assemblage of tents and tables on the square that Hong Kong students had been using as a base to supply the material needs of the pro-democracy students. Hong Kong students who THE BATILE OF BEUING 105

watched the soldiers walk by to take up positions in front of the mu­ seum said they looked calm and unwarlike. Some of the troops, they reported, even promised not to harm the students in the square. There was handshaking between the two groups. It may have been the last gesture of friendship of the whole night between the People's Army and "the people." Now the noise of the hard fighting along the western portion of Changan was becoming threateningly close. Paul Caccamo of Garden City, N.Y., who was teaching English in the northern city of , had come into Beijing two days earlier. He left the square at the north end around 12:30 a.m. and moved with some Chinese friends toward where the noise of strife was loudest, about a mile away to the west. "Suddenly the crowd in front of me halted," he recalls. "I thought the troops in front of us would move and tum back. There was this faith in the People's Army. Some people even told me that the soldiers were using only plastic bullets. The people in front of me had linked arms. But the soldiers facing them were kneeling down and were spraying the crowd with bullets. In the first second, every­ body turned and ran. I thought I was never going to stop running." Eventually, a Chinese grabbed Caccamo by the arm and told him he could stop: the immediate danger was past. A man came up to him and shouted, "Foreigner, foreigner, come and look at this!" "I walked over to where he was," Caccamo says, "and there on a bicycle rack was an 18-year-old girl with a bullet through her chest. That changed my mind about everything." As the crowd retreated to another intersection blocked by buses, there were frantic shouts to set the vehicles on fire. But the troops were moving fast now and had already jogged around the buses and were taking aim again at the swirling mob in front of them. Caccamo and several Chinese raced down Fuyou Street, next to Zhongnanhai, but a squad of the troops followed, shooting indiscriminately. Cac­ camo dived to the ground. When he thought there was a safe moment, he sprinted to the Zhongnanhai wall. Looking round, he saw dozens of bodies lying in the street. Some of the victims were probably still alive, but he could not stop to check: He and many others raced north to escape pursuit. Meanwhile, BBC's Kate Adie had persuaded her driver to leave the relative safety of the Palace Hotel and circumnavigate the Forbid­ den City. After midnight, this was the only reasonably safe way to approach Changan A venue to the west of Tiananmen. The car took the first ring road and approached the overpass at . Long before reaching it, Adie was suprised by the number of roadblocks that 106 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES citizens had put up at almost every major intersection. The car stopped some 400 yards from the overpass, and Adie and her crew got out to take a look. "We couldn't believe it," she said. "The whole of the top of the overpass on Changan had blazing trucks on it. Soldiers were silhouetted against them and were firing at people. There were heavy trucks and APCs pushing through. We were at the bottom of the exit ramp from the ring road and were crawling on the grass. I saw about five people fall to the ground nearby. Others were just standing there in disbelief. There were a lot of people who didn't seem to realize how lethal the shooting was." At the intersection of Xidan and Changan, four buses were on fire. There was hand-to-hand combat all around the intersection, with the demonstrators and units of the 27th Army mingling in a furious, running melee. A Chinese photographer of the liberal intellectual magazine Nexus was aiming her camera at the scenes of violence around her. A junior officer approached her from behind and shot her in the back with his pistol. The bullet passed through her body and left a gaping wound in her stomach. Astonishingly, she survived. Just west of the intersection, the mob began rocking an officer's jeep and succeeded in overturning it. Furious, the officer crawled out and fired several times into the crowd, killing four people. When he had stopped firing--either for lack of ammunition or because his gun jammed-the mob jumped him and beat him to death. Then they stripped him, castrated him, slit open his stomach and disemboweled him. They hung his body by the neck against the side of a gutted city bus, an officer's cap placed contemptuously on his disfigured head. A crudely written slogan placed near the corpse read, "The people will be victorious." At about the same time, near Qianmen, another officer fell into the hands of the enraged mob after shooting several women to death. He too was beaten to a pulp, then hung by the neck from the overpass at Qianmen and the eastern side of Tiananmen. Other soldiers caught by demonstrators after assaulting civilians were thrown from over­ passes, set on fire, castrated or thrown into Beijing's canals. In an attempt to vilify the demonstrators, Chinese television for several days subjected its audience to grisly shots of the disemboweled Xidan of­ ficer. Even nearly two weeks after the massacre, it was airing horrify­ ing footage of incinerated cadavers of soldiers literally being shoveled out of the charred remains of burned out trucks and APCs. Tracer fire over the square was becoming almost constant. Gun­ fire was lapping at the very edges of Tiananmen from the south, partic­ ularly around the Kentucky Fried Chicken franchise, and the western THE BATILE OF BEUING 107

end of the square on Changan. Nick Griffin, a correspondent with Asia Television in Hong Kong, decided with his crew that the monu­ ment, stuck in the middle of the square, was both a dangerous place to be based and a difficult spot from which to observe the swirling cur­ rent of events. So along with his team of two cameramen, two report­ ers, a technician, his boss and a personal assistant, Griffin moved to the side of the square just south of the Great Hall and climbed to the roof of the public lavatory. "It gave us a great view of Tiananmen," he said. What he saw was not encouraging for the students. Some 5,000 troops had infiltrated the square from the south, in addition to those already resting on the ground by Mao's Tomb or lined up with sticks in front of the museum. The crowds shouted, "Leave, leave, you mustn't kill them [the students]!" But the troops marched impassively down the side street at the south end of the Great Hall, then entered the large building. Later, along with other troops already inside the Great Hall, they were to emerge through the main doors on the east front and move down the steps into the square. Meanwhile, ambu­ lances were coming and going into the square to pick up critically injured demonstrators who had been treated at a temporary first-aid station. Many of the wounded had serious gunshot wounds and were close to death. Volunteer Chinese doctors from nearby hospitals, as well as medical students and some medics from Hong Kong, worked in desperate conditions-no running water, no proper medical sup­ plies, no sterilization-to save what lives they could. "These are the children of China," a Chinese physician told a Western reporter. "I will be the last to leave." If he was, he almost certainly suffered the fate of several Chinese doctors in the square, who were bayoneted or shot to death as the 27th Army advanced. Perhaps no group in Beijing behaved more heroically during the night of June 3-4 than the doctors who worked to save lives and limbs in the hospitals close to the center of Beijing. Several doctors from the Beijing Union Medical College Hospital and other institutions took turns providing basic first aid on the square. Many were either killed where they were working or arrested for allegedly assisting demonstrators. The hospitals quickly turned into scenes out of Bruegel or Hier­ onymus Bosch as the dead and wounded were carried in-sometimes on stretchers, sometimes on bicycles, sometimes even on doors con­ verted in desperation to portable beds. The dead were often dumped unceremoniously into side rooms because the hospital morgue was al­ ready overflowing and the staff had no time to cope with people who 108 CoNTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES were no longer alive. The BBC's Kate Adie, like several Western re­ porters, found her car and driver at one point swept up in a desperate effort to get wounded Chinese as rapidly as possible to medical care. She recalls, "I came to a section of the crowd that was shouting 'hospi­ tal!' There was a woman with her brains hanging out, dying. We took her and a man and a female relative to the Children's Hospital, got her out of the car and raced in. The place was heaving with action. We realized we were in a procession. There were people on bicycles, on park benches, on tricycle rickshas. Park benches, with wounded peo­ ple on them, were being carried directly into the operating theater. I went into one theater and found, at a quick estimate, that there were 30 people lying on the tloor. All of them had major gunshot wounds, to the head, the body, the legs, everywhere." "A man with a two-way radio seized me. The Chinese escorting me shouted 'Party man! Party man!' and hustled me away from him. There were 30 to 50 people brought in in the first 20 minutes there, and the doctors and nurses were in a state of rage. There was no con­ fusion in their minds as to what had happened. They were screaming with sheer outrage." A few hours later, after returning to the Beijing Hotel to tele­ phone her broadcast to London, Adie took her crew to the Beijing Union Medical College Hospital, the largest and best-equipped medi­ cal facility in the vicinity of Tiananmen. "The operating theater was on the third tloor," she recalled. "The surgeon was saying, 'We just can't cope. How many have come through here? Hundreds. But you must be careful.' A middle-aged woman, an official, started screaming at me, and the students with me screamed back at her. Then they took me to another room and pointed out to me a reporter with a serious head wound. A lot of people were uncon­ scious. There was no treatment being given. Two days later they told me that many doctors and nurses had been shot on the square. There was a struggle around me between the party people and the students. All the people were shouting, 'Tell, tell, tell the world!' " Dr. Michael Mueller, an American physician who was in Beijing at the time, was told by Chinese medical friends that at least nine doc­ tors had been killed helping the wounded in and around Tiananmen and that several doctors had been beaten up inside the hospitals by troops who came in looking for wounded students. "They were very scared," Mueller said of his Chinese colleagues. Chinese physicians and nurses told Western reporters that the troops in a few instances pulled life-support systems away from seriously wounded patients, then struggled with doctors who tried to interfere. Some Chinese THE BATILE OF BElliNG 109 medical personnel were almost certainly killed inside their hospitals. As for the corpses, the hospitals at first refused to permit relatives to see or collect them. But at some hospitals the crush of angry relatives was so great that the authorities had to relent. Still, many hospitals kept their cadavers for days afterward, under instructions from mar­ tial-law authorities not to reveal the number of dead they held.

1:30 a.m. It was only a matter of minutes before the 27th Army would burst through the final barriers with tanks and ACPs and occupy Tiananmen Square. Some students and even teenagers were sharpen­ ing tent poles and other crude pikes. Other demonstrators were don­ ning surgical masks against the anticipated tear gas. A few formed what they called "daredevil squads," which would, they hoped, attack the troops in needle-like guerrilla actions around the city. All evening long, the war of the loudspeakers had continued, with the more powerful, Party-controlled amplifiers repeating the martial­ law warnings to people in the square to disperse or else accept full responsibility for any physical harm they suffered. The less powerful student loudspeakers broadcast defiant accusations of military brutal­ ity and recordings of , the socialist anthem. At precisely 1:30 a.m., a chilling new order came booming from the government speakers. "A serious counterrevolutionary rebellion has occ1.J,rred in the capital this evening," it declaimed ominously. Many of the students flinched at the word counterrevolutionary, a deadly accusation in Chinese Communist parlance. It had not been previously used in government descriptions of the pro-democracy pro­ tests, but its currency now meant only one thing: the army would be pitiless in its suppression of the protest. The announcement contin­ ued: "Rioters have furiously attacked soldiers and robbed them of their weapons and ammunition. They have burned military vehicles, set up roadblocks and kidnaped officers and men in an attempt to sub­ vert the People's Republic of China and overthrow the socialist sys­ tem. The People's Liberation Army has kept an attitude of restraint for some days. However, the counterrevolutionary rebellion must now be resolutely counterattacked. Residents of the capital should strictly abide by the specific regulations as provided by martial law and coop­ erate with the soldiers to safeguard the constitution and defend the security of the socialist motherland and its capital. The personal safety of anyone cannot be guaranteed if he disregards this warning. He will be held responsible for all the consequences." The announcement was repeated over and over. As the official 110 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES voice began to blend with the furious noise of the army breaking into the square, the students responded with an appeal of their own. "Do you still have a conscience?" their loudspeakers asked the troops be­ ginning to pour into Tiananmen. "We are all Chinese." Other demonstrators were driving buses back and forth on the north side of Changan in front of the Gate of Heavenly Peace while the students inside tried to figure out what to do with them. One bus was driven directly into the narrow tunnel in the middle of the gate and parked with deliberate awkwardness at an angle from one side to the other. The driver seemed intent on protecting the students in the square from being attacked by motorized units possibly concealed within the ancient courtyards of the Emperors. In another, almost suicidal maneuver, one driver smashed his bus right into the front of the first convoy to reach the square. As a result, the tanks and APCs ground temporarily to a halt just 100 yards west of the square proper. Behind them were several helmeted troops. Quickly, military snipers started running along the wall of the , shooting as they went, and taking up positions to pro­ tect the north flank of the 27th Army as it prepared to enter the square proper. There were still thousands of people in the square, though none seemed to know exactly what to do. The headlights of armored personnel carriers, tanks and trucks were gleaming malevolently in the blackness, as though hunching up for a final pounce. About 100 yards in front of them, a thin line of students and workers, arms linked, stood defiantly, waiting for the military to make the next move. Then the rattle of automatic fire was heard, and sev­ eral in the front line of demonstrators crumpled to the ground. Shoot­ ing now seemed to be going on from several points on the northern side of the square. There was a constant to and fro of flatbed bicycles and tricycle rickshas coming and going with the wounded, blood drip­ ping onto the street, or in some places left thick upon the ground. Ambulances continued to make their way through the crowds to the center of the square or to the first-aid tent not far from the Goddess of Democracy. Several ambulances arrived at nearby hospitals with bul­ let holes in the doors. The most militant of the demonstrators fought back with little effect on the relentless advance of the soldiers. Molotov cocktails bounced against some of the APCs. Rocks were hurled through the air toward the west where the bulk of the armor and troops still held itself coiled for the final push. But most of the crowd now ran in terror from the volleys of AK-4 7 rounds that smashed back and forth in front of the gate. THE BATILE OF BElliNG 111

2 a.m. Soon there was almost constant firing in the northern part of the square, most of it by troops moving eastward to block access along Changan. But while the crowd that had been herded east by the in­ coming troops had given ground in the square, it still contained thousands of demonstrators. More firing broke out. More people dropped, bleeding, to the street, and the pain stricken demonstrators began to disappear up north-south streets leading off Changan. To Hong Kong correspondent Nick Griffin, watching from his perch on the roof of the public lavatory south of the Great Hall, what was frightening about the newest wave of troops entering the square in his vicinity was their demeanor. "They looked doped up to their eye­ balls," he recalled. "They were waving their rifles around. When ­ vilians would grab at them, they would nod as though spaced out." Other reporters who had seen the 27th Army up close on its way down Changan found chilling the manner in which some of the soldiers were smiling as they discharged their rifles. These impressions lent cur­ rency to a persistent rumor that the men of the 27th had been given amphetamines before their final thrust into Tiananmen. The most commonly relayed account was that the troops had been told they needed immunization against the poor hygiene in the square, and were then given either injections or tablets. There was no official confirma­ tion of those reports. Not far from the square, Michael Fathers, Asia editor of the Brit­ ish daily newspaper The Independent, was set upon by 27th Army troops. "Several soldiers broke ranks and ran to me, punching me and kicking me," he reported. "There was pure hatred in their eyes. They pushed me into a kneeling position and had another go at me, whack­ ing me across the back with their rods and kicking, always kicking, until I fell over. They pulled off my spectacles and crushed them." Added Fathers: "If this is the People's Army, God spare China." Dozens of APCs were now grinding across the square from west to east, taking up positions facing south. With them came more hel­ meted troops, assault rifles at the ready. Amazingly, a bus filled with young demonstrators went speeding westward against the flow of the crowd straight into the advancing APC columns, evidently determined to help stop the military onslaught. From their increasingly danger­ ous perches on the top level of the monument, Western camera crews recorded the scene as riot police boarded the bus as soon as it stopped, dragged out the driver and other occupants, and began beating them with long truncheons. Light machine guns were now being set up on tripods on the 112 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES north and west sides of the square, and Tiananmen was already hemmed in by troops on three sides. Only to the south was there room for crowds to come and go. The gaps were rapidly being filled here too, as more and more soldiers came in from the convoys that had by now broken through by the Kentucky Fried Chicken store. When some people in the large crowd still in the northern part of Tiananmen started shouting "Strike! Strike!" the troops fired directly into them. Bullets began thudding into the upper stories of the Beijing Hotel, which offered a clear view of Tiananmen to several Western camera crews inside. But that vantage was not safe. People on the hotel's balconies spotted army sharpshooters on the roof of the Ministry of Public Security building across the street. Military snipers seem to have occupied other high points in and around the square. Some Bei­ jing Hotel occupants were warned by public-security officials that they would be shot at if they came out to watch what was happening. Whenever the cacophony of rifle fire would let up a little, though, an­ other sound would filter up to the balconies, the sound of the screams and groans of the wounded and the incessant torrent of abuse shouted at the troops.

3 a.m. By now, Changan Avenue between the Beijing Hotel and Tiananmen Square had been cut in two by several lines of soldiers who sat or knelt sullenly, aiming their rifles toward the angry and taunting crowds. The crowds moved back and forth on foot or on bicycle be­ tween stalled buses and other vehicles dragooned into service as barri­ cades by angry citizens. In the square, a few thousand students and workers were left, boldly taunting the incoming soldiers with shouts of "Fascist!" and hurling insults at Li Peng. The student loudspeakers were responding to the endless government repetition of the martial­ law warning with news of the casualty situation. In the south of the square, troops were putting together a perime­ ter toward Qianmen, trying to keep people away from the Great Hall. Many of the troops had bayonets fixed on their AK-47s, lending a sinister new dimension to their growing numbers. In the tents closest to the edge of the square, most of the students roused themselves from sleep and other activities and moved closer to the monument. Surpris­ ingly, Hou Dejian, the Taiwanese vocalist and hunger striker, was still there with his companions. Around 3:30 a.m., he succeeded in negoti­ ating with a senior officer in the square a moratorium on a fullscale military assault, pending a student vote to withdraw from the square THE BATILE OF BElliNG 113

peacefully. The officer agreed to allow additional time before clearing the square. But Hou had little room for maneuver among the remaining stu­ dents, workers, and sympathizers close to the monument. An hour earlier Chai Ling, the spellbinding student orator, announced to her fellow demonstrators over the public address system that those who wished to leave could do so. Yet even this declaration had intensified disagreements among the remaining protesters. Hou and Beijing Nor­ mal University lecturer Liu Xiaobo, two of the four hunger strikers, took turns appealing for calm and nonbelligerence through the stu­ dent-controlled speaker system. But when they convened a meeting of student representatives in one of the tents, one faction favored a quiet withdrawal from the square while another insisted that everyone should stay until death. Several students had prepared Molotov cocktails, and one group had a rifle and a machine gun captured from troops the previous morning. A student organizer later explained, "One worker held onto the machine gun with one hand and brandished an iron bar with the other. He swung against anyone who tried to wrest the gun out of his hands. But we patiently explained that, yes, he could mow down sev­ eral soldiers, but it would be at the cost of several hundred of us get­ ting killed too. Finally, he relented and we had the gun removed from the square."

4 a.m. The initiative was hardly with the students now. As the govern­ ment-controlled loudspeakers kept up their ominous warnings, the bright street lights, which had burned every night during the student occupation of Tiananmen, were suddenly and without warning extin­ guished. It was 4 a.m. There was a brief and dramatic silence before a spotlight came on and illuminated thousands of helmeted soldiers with mounted bayonets coming out of the Great Hall and taking up posi­ tions in front of the building, ready to move into the square. "They filled out the whole parking lot," recalled David Schweisberg, U.P.I.'s Beijing bureau chief. "Their uniforms and bayonets were glinting. Immediately, the students played the Internationale on their speaker system and began singing it. Some of them lit fires around the monu­ ment. Otherwise, it was pitch dark. Then people seemed to come back into the square from side streets and joined in the singing of the lnternationale. It was eerie." The lights came on again at 4:39 a.m. APCs were rumbling into the center of the square, heading for the tent city that had occupied 114 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES that area for weeks. At the same time, there was a great burst of gun­ fire all over the square, most of it, at first, apparently over the heads of the people. Suddenly, a great fear seemed to take over most of the remaining protesters still in the square, and a large exodus began, all of it to the southeast, where the troops had kept an exit corridor open. Over a loudspeaker, Hou Dejian explained why he and the other hun­ ger strikers, who were now essentially the leaders of the remaining protesters, were willing to quit the square. "We're not afraid to die," he said, "but we've already lost too much blood." About ten APCs had started rolling into the tents now, smashing them fiat and destroying everything in them. On the west side of the square, the thousands of troops from the Great Hall also started mov­ ing in, forcing anyone in their pathway to move, bayoneting some who resisted or were not moving fast enough, beating and occasionally shooting others. Students later claimed that several of their number had been crushed to death in the tents by the APCs. The authorities denied that charge, but given the fury of the assault it is likely that some people did die beneath the tracks of the vehicles.

5 a.m.

Chinese commandos in camouflage uniforms surrounded the monument with AK-47s and drawn pistols and issued a three-minute ultimatum for people to leave. Most of the remaining demonstrators took heed and moved quickly away from the monument to the south. Others, though, hesitated and were shot on the spot. At exactly 5 a.m. a sudden and unexplained burst of artillery and heavy machine-gun fire was heard from somewhere south of Tiananmen. Within ten min­ utes, troops were pouring into the center of the square from all direc­ tions. The attack forced the several hundred students who remained either to flee to the corridor still left open, where student marshals were guiding their comrades to the safety of side streets, or to face near certain death. By now firing was continuous in the vicinity of the square, though it was difficult to be sure exactly from which direction it was coming. Over the loudspeakers, students called on the ordinary citizens of Bei­ jing to do what they could to stop the troops. Nonstudent crowds in the square area responded by trying to block the intersections leading into it. Despite plaintive appeals for calm, some demonstrators con­ tinued to hurl Molotov cocktails at incoming APCs, and two were set alight on the outskirts of the square. As many of the students trickled out of the square, they chanted, "Down with fascists! Down with vio- THE BA'ITLE OF BElliNG ll5 lence!" Others flashed the V sign and shouted "Go with us!" at ap­ plauding Beijing residents. At the eastern end of the square, ambulances were no long being permitted through the defense perimeter set up by troops across Changan A venue near the Beijing Hotel. Thousands of young people were angrily milling around about 75 yards from the sitting soldiers. Many people were shouting "Fascists!" and "Beasts!" From time to time, a group of troops would stand up, or adopt a kneeling position, and fire straight at the most provocative looking knots of people, fel­ ling several and sending the others scurrying for cover. What happened in the next hour or so is difficult to piece to­ gether, but it is almost certain that this is when the most deaths oc­ curred in the square. At about 5:15a.m., a convoy of eight tanks, 21 APCs and more than 40 trucks crammed with troops roared down Changan Avenue, past the Jianguo Hotel and across the Jian­ guomenwai overpass toward Tiananmen. Despite the absence of other traffic, it took them 15 minutes to reach the square. They had to smash through low railings, disabled buses and piles of debris left on the road by Beijing citizens to try to slow down incoming units. At 5:30a.m., the tanks crunched at high speed past the Beijing Hotel and into the square. The tanks led the convoy, chiefly because they were the only vehicles capable of plowing through the burned-out buses and piled-up construction equipment that still blocked Changan at the in­ tersection with Street. As they stormed by, the lead tank smashed over the last main obstacle on the street, a small construction dozer that forced the front of the tank up into a 30° angle. The dozer was split, and a pathway was cleared for the APCs and trucks. As the tanks roared on, the sound of machine-gun and automatic­ rifle fire from the trucks was constant, and some of the APCs started emitting noxious clouds of tear gas. Despite the danger, young men were still crouching in front of the wall of the Forbidden City, hurling rocks and bottles vainly at the fast moving vehicles and howling with rage. But the tanks kept moving toward the square, and it was proba­ bly just after 5:30 that one of them knocked over the Goddess of De­ mocracy statue. Grainy government television footage aired several hours later showed a single tank toppling the statue amid signs of des­ olation and destruction in the surrounding parts of the square. Most of the shooting from the incoming trucks seemed to be aimed in the air, though citizens were still being killed and injured as the convoy came through. Then at 5:45, there was intense machine-gun fire either from the northern end of Tiananmen Square or from inside the For­ bidden City. Tracer fire also continued to arc through the sky, and the 116 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

occasional heavy boom of a tank or artillery round punctuated the night.

6 a.m. The last of the students staggered out of the square. Even then, though, they were not safe. As they walked, arms linked, down Qian­ men Road, several were chased by APCs. As many as eleven people were crushed as they tried to make their way first west, then north to their universities. Several dozen students were shot at point blank as they approached Changan A venue on their way north on Beixinhua Street. Eyewitnesses said the gunfire was ferocious for several min­ utes. Other students in the street were crushed against walls by APCs. Back on the square, the army was mopping up. The number of corpses may never be known, or what happened to them or to the unfortunates who were wounded and could not be evacuated. There were persistent reports soon after the massacre that flamethrowers and blowtorches were used to incinerate piles of dead on the spot. Other reports asserted that several of the casualties were removed from the square and taken west along Changan in military trucks. Some ver­ sions had it that the dead were taken to Babaoshan Revolutionary Cemetery, one of the few large crematoriums in Beijing, and that the bodies were immediately cremated. Other stories spoke of a mass in­ cineration of corpses out in the Western Hills within the military-se­ curity zone. In the official effort to rebut charges of indiscriminate shooting in the closing minutes of the military attack on Tiananmen, political of­ ficer General Zhang Gong asserted that "there was not a single casu­ alty on the square." It is conceivable, though unlikely, that in the central part of the square around the monument, there were no fatali­ ties during the period in question. Too many reporters, other foreign­ ers and Chinese, however, witnessed volley after volley of gunfire directly into crowds on Changan on the edge of the square, and heard furious fusillades within the square during the time in question, for the government claim to be taken seriously.

Dawn As the sun came up on June 4, citizens of Beijing who were una­ ware of the night's chaos awoke to a shocking sight. Spirals of black smoke were rising over several parts of the city from burning military and civilian vehicles. Dozens of intersections were littered with the carcasses of burned-out buses and trucks, with rocks, bricks, smashed THE BATTLE OF BEIJING 117

bottles, half-demolished construction equipment, discarded shell cas­ ings, and pedestrian and bicycle guard rails dragged into the street and then twisted into baroque shapes by the tracks of onrushing armor. A smashed bus still burned near the Wangfujing and Changan intersec­ tion. It had not been used as an obstacle to the military but as a make­ shift ambulance. Toward the west along Changan, destruction was still taking place. Bold groups of citizens were systematically destroy­ ing APCs that had either parked or stalled during the slow move east­ ward into the city the previous night. Before long, the line of burned­ out APCs near the Minzu Hotel looked more like a national military debacle than what the authorities termed, early Sunday, as their "ini­ tial victory" over the "scum of society." The army later acknowledged that 364 military vehicles-tanks, trucks, APCs, jeeps and military buses---had been destroyed in the furious hours of combat with unarmed civilians in the center of Bei­ jing. Authorities claimed that some 1,000 troops had been killed or injured. Some Western military attaches put the figure higher. In any case, the killing of civilians was still continuing, now in broad daylight. Near the Beijing Hotel along Changan, group after group of civilians would come within 50 yards of the sullen lines of troops guarding the square and taunt them. Then, provoked to the point of anger, an officer would give an order and a volley of AK-47 rounds would fly, sending the crowd scrambling once more and leav­ ing another dozen or so bodies on the street. A particularly vicious round of gunfire at 10:27 a.m. left dozens of people littering the sur­ face of Changan. Several rounds also hit the Beijing Hotel, where a handful of Western reporters had managed to elude the room searches conducted earlier in the morning by angry public-security officials. Alexis Feringer, a graduate student at 's Fletcher School of Law and Diplomacy and working temporarily for Cable News Network, carefully observed every major event from her elev­ enth floor Beijing Hotel balcony from late Saturday night until early Monday morning. Her notebook indicates six incidents of troops fir­ ing into the crowds on Sunday: at 10:55 a.m., 11:53 a.m., 12:10 p.m., 1:10 to 1:15 p.m., 2 p.m., and 3:20p.m. On each occasion, there were casualties. Meanwhile, Chinese military helicopters were landing and taking off from Tiananmen Square at almost five-minute intervals, probably helping evacuate the seriously wounded from Tiananmen. How many civilians died in the battle for Beijing? No one may ever know the precise figures, even if the regime in China were to change and a truly honest investigation were conducted. Children were killed holding hands with their mothers. A nine-year-old boy 118 CoNTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES was shot seven or eight times in the back, and his parents placed the corpse on a truck and drove through the streets of northwest Beijing Sunday morning. "This is what the government has done," the dis­ traught mother kept telling crowds of passersby through a makeshift speaker system. A similarly gruesome traveling atrocity exhibition was arranged by students at the pro-democracy Political Science and Law College of China. The cadavers of five students who had been crushed by APCs after leaving Tiananmen Square early in the morn­ ing were packed in ice and carried in grisly pomp from university to university in northeastern Beijing. Workers were shot bicycling to factories, old people died in their apartments as bullets thudded into the building. Students were crushed even on Sunday morning by APCs roaring west along Changan. Moreover, many bodies may never be located. Aside from isolated soldiers thrown into canals or the question of the dead on Tiananmen Square, some corpses were dumped into rooms in build­ ings that had no connection with hospitals. Mitch Presnick, of Cen­ terville, Va., a graduate student at Peking University, was taken surreptitiously into a building in northeastern Beijing and shown sev­ eral corpses-all of student age-lying on tables. He never discovered where they had been killed, or what the bodies were doing there. U.P.I.'s David Schweisberg called several Beijing hospitals for a body count for the first three days after the massacre and added up a total of 321 dead-until the hospitals refused, under government pres­ sure, to give out any more figures. Officials of the Chinese Red Cross reported that 2,600 died, but then they too were ordered to keep silent and to deny that they had ever given out such figures. The mayor of Beijing announced that more than 1,000 army personnel had been killed or wounded in the street fighting, but he made no mention of civilian casualties, which, it stood to reason, would have been greater. A courageous announcer for Radio Beijing's English service told lis­ teners that "thousands" of protesters "had died in the tragic incident" and called upon the people of all countries to "join our protests against the barbarous suppression of the people." Several minutes later, an­ other version of the same news item was broadcast, and the announcer who had read the first bulletin was never heard again on the radio. The Far Eastern Economic Review reported that Beijing hospitals queried by its correspondents had come up with a total of about 700 deaths. At the other end of the spectrum, Beijing-based Soviet corre­ spondents reported privately to their editors that they estimated the number of dead to be close to 10,000. Experienced East European THE BATILE OF BEUING 119 diplomats who specialize in Chinese affairs also seemed to find this figure comfortable. In all probability, the total number of civilian dead in Beijing dur­ ing the 24-hour period beginning around 10 p.m. Saturday, June 3, was between 1,000 and 5,000. The number of soldiers killed was prob­ ably in the scores or low hundreds. Whatever the number, all were the victims of what can only be called a massacre. All died because of efforts by a reactionary regime to stop the clock on political change in the world's most ancient con­ tinuous civilization. As a youthful leader told a Western correspon­ dent shortly after the taking of Tiananmen Square: "Our calls for democracy have reached the living rooms of a largely apolitical peo­ ple. Now, at least, they know that there are such things as democracy and freedom and that they too deserve them."

6. BEIJING BLOODBATH*

Russell Watson**

Almost to the end, the students thought they could win. As troops closed in on Tiananmen Square before dawn on Sunday, the unarmed protesters defiantly stood their ground. "You have to give your life to the movement," the students shouted over their loud­ speaker. But two hours later, as gunfire echoed outside the square, the last holdouts gave in to despair. "We can't let any more blood flow," someone shouted over the loudspeaker. "We must leave." The last 1,000 or so students wearily walked out of the square, many of them in tears. At that point the Army stormed down the streets toward Tiananmen-tanks, armored personnel carriers and trucks full of troops, spitting gunfire in all directions. They smashed through the protesters' frail barricades and charged into the square, where they demolished the students' provocative statue, the "Godess of Democ­ racy." Angry civilians poured into the streets shouting, "You beasts! You beasts!" The soldiers shot back, killing 500 to 1,000 people and leaving the democracy movement in ruins. After seven weeks of nonviolent protest-and a strangely passive response from the government-the upheaval in China finally pro­ duced the bloodbath all sides had feared. The crackdown began 24 hours before with a feeble thrust by mostly unarmed soldiers. Re­ pulsed and humiliated, the Army came back for more, and some of the demonstrators took to throwing rocks and even firebombs at them. Just after midnight on Sunday morning, the Army sent an armored personnel carrier roaring through the top of the square where a huge portrait of Mao Zedong sits atop the gate to the Forbidden City, the old imperial palace. Later, when two more APC's entered the square, protesters were waiting for them with Molotov cocktails. One escaped in flames. The other stalled and burned, its crew jumping free only to be beaten by the crowd. The Army had a provocation that it may have been seeking. Its own loudspeakers warned the protesters: "If you have taken guns from soldiers, do not use them"--even though a NEWSWEEK corre-

• Reprinted by permission of Newsweek, Inc., dated November 1, 1989, from Newsweek, , 1989. •• The other authors of this article include Melinda Liu, Tony Clifton, Lenore Magidan, Carroll Bugent, and Douglas Walker. (121) 122 CoNTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES spondent in the square could see no students carrying firearms. Soon the Army began its paroxysm of violence. In the casualty room of one nearby hospital, where blood was inches deep on the floor, a man shot through the arm told a wire-service reporter: "They were simply rak­ ing the crowd with bullets." The military move may have been intended, in part, to break a political stalemate. For two weeks, Deng Xiaoping, China's 84-year­ old senior leader, had been trying to purge Zhao Ziyang, 70, the Gen­ eral Secretary of the Communist Party, who had argued for concilia­ tion with the students. Deng was supported by Prime Minister Li Peng and other hardliners, most of them elderly. They accused Zhao of "counterrevolutionary" and "antiparty" intrigues, but he refused to confess his "crimes," according to a liberal source. Many Party offi­ cials had little stomach for a deep and bitter purge of Zhao and other moderates. As the power struggle dragged on, some hardliners argued for the face-saving symbolism of a move by the People's Liberation Army, itself apparently divided, to restore order in the capital. "It won't do for the PLA not to enter Beijing,'' , head of the Party's security department, told his colleagues. Pyrrhic victory: The Army thrust apparently restored the gov­ ernment's control over Tiananmen, but did not quell the spirit of pro­ test. Knots of angry people gathered all over the city, sometimes drawing more gunfire. Deng's crackdown was almost universally con­ demned. "I deeply deplore the decision to use force against peaceful demonstrators,'' George Bush said in Maine. And at the edge of Tiananmen, a weeping girl said the bloodshed had gained the regime nothing. "The government has won the battle here today," she said. "But they have lost the people's hearts." The crackdown seemed to begin inauspiciously for the hardliners. Before dawn on Saturday, a column of soldiers marched almost tim­ idly down Changan A venue toward Tiananmen Square. The troops were young; they wore uniform trousers and white shirts and carried no firearms. Several hundred yards short of their objective, crowds of civilians swarmed out to block the way, pelting the troops with rub­ bish and shoes and imploring them to stop. The People's Liberation Army fell back without a fight. Sheepishly, some of the soldiers said their mission was to combat "bad elements" and "hooligans." "Do we look like bad people?" asked one demonstrator. At about the same time, other columns heading for Tiananmen, some equipped with firearms, were stopped and turned back by protes­ ters. An Army officer leading one convoy of 40 trucks was quoted as saying: "We will not suppress the people. The people and Army must BEUING BLOODBATH 123 stand together." The result was a victory parade on Saturday after­ noon, when some 60,000 workers and students celebrated what they described as "people's power." By afternoon, too, hardline military officers were citing the Army's loss of face-including student seizures of soldiers' AK-47 as­ sault rifles-as a reason for reprisal. The troops began to move into position again. Soon the confrontations started. A block or so from the square, thousands of people hurled stones and bottles in a futile effort to push back a column of troops. The soldiers-apparently older and more determined than their comrades of the morning before-whipped students' faces with belts and hit them with long sticks. "You can't hit the people," the crowd chanted, but the soldiers continued to beat them. In a fracas outside Zhongnanhai, the government compound near the square, troops fired about 20 canisters of tear gas into a crowd­ the first use of gas in seven weeks of demonstrations. The demonstra­ tors responded, hurling bricks and rocks at the soldiers and their buses. In Tiananmen, government loudspeakers announced new mar­ tial-law orders. They instructed people to stay in their homes and warned that security forces were authorized to use any "methods nec­ essary to break through ." The crowds held fast. Near the Jianguomenwai diplomatic compound, about 30 military trucks were halted, some with slashed tires. Civilians thronged around, lec­ turing the troops about democracy. The shooting began at around 10 p.m. Saturday night. Off to the west of Tiananmen, protesters pelted a column of troops with chunks of paving and set a military bus aflame. The troops opened fire and forced their way through. After midnight, soldiers began to move into Tiananmen, setting the stage for the bloody denouement. For several days before the final crackdown, it appeared that Deng's purge might fizzle. By the end of last week, the Communist Party Central Committee still had not formally voted Zhao Ziyang out of office. At a meeting of about 100 committee members, many agreed that Zhao had broken discipline and should be removed as General Secretary of the Party. But they balked at labeling him a "counterrev­ olutionary," which would get Zhao expelled from the Party and elimi­ nate any chance for a political comeback. A meeting of all 170 voting members of the Central Committee was postponed, apparently be­ cause Deng was unsure of his political support. Warming up their old-fashioned propaganda machine, the hard­ liners staged pro-government rallies, blaming the student unrest on Chinese dissidents and foreign interests; in at least one parade, the 124 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES villains wore Uncle Sam costumes. At workplace meetings Zhao and his supporters were accused of counterrevolutionary intrigues, but even the Party faithful had trouble swallowing that line. At one ses­ sion in a prestigious academy, Party members shouted: "That's wrong! That's ridiculous!" After a Party circular had been read, an­ other member stood up and, in a voice dripping sarcasm, said: "Li Peng is the greatest Marxist-Leninist of our time." Despite martial law, about 10,000 student demonstrators decided to stick it out in Tiananmen. They defiantly erected the Goddess of Democracy, a 33-foot statue made from plaster and plastic foam and bearing an obvious resemblance to New York's Statue of Liberty. State-controlled television called the statue "an insult to our national dignity." The students were of two minds about their long vigil. Some militants wanted to continue it until the government agreed to their demands: the end of martial law, withdrawal of troops from the city, lifting of censorship and a promise of no reprisals against the campaigners for democracy. Other students were ready to leave the square. Some of them had a new protest in mind: shaving their heads. "We would be shaven-headed like prisoners," said student , "because the government has turned this whole country into a prison." Old slogans: Deng tried to buttress himself by bringing back some survivors of the Long March generation-revered veterans of the revolution, many of whom had been forced into retirement for op­ posing his economic reforms. , 84, head of the Central Ad­ visory Committee, a panel of elder statesmen, used the rhetoric of earlier to blame China's troubles on a "very, very few people who intend to create turmoil." Banners suddenly appeared bearing another old slogan: "Resolutely oppose bourgeois ." What the old guard especially disliked about Zhao was his habit of acting on his own, instead of deferring to the elders. President Yang Shangkun, 82, who has strong connections to the military, charged that Zhao had revealed the existence of "two different voices within the Party" and dared to insist on his own ideas, even when Deng spoke against them. But the old guard was not unanimous. One of the veterans, former Beijing mayor , 87, an old foe of Deng's, said the students' motives were "good, pure, wholesome and constructive." There were rumors that Prime Minister Li would be replaced, or that the Party elders were scheming to depose Deng him­ self after next October's 40th anniversary of the communist triumph in China. Deng was said to have resurrected some of Zhao's reformist aides to offset the old guard. BEUING BLOODBATH 125

He recruited one useful ally in Defense Minister , a sup­ porter of Zhao who reportedly had opposed the use of troops to re­ store order. After a long absence from public view, Qin turned up on the television news Saturday evening, bringing fraternal greetings from Deng and Li to soldiers in Beijing. One theory was that Qin had thrown in his lot with the hardliners in order to avoid splitting the military. Another was that the hardliners had agreed to a compromise with some of the moderates: an agreement to deploy the troops in exchange for a lighter touch in the coming political purge. The military crackdown that resulted from Deng's political ma­ neuvers played badly overseas. In Hong Kong, scheduled to revert to Chinese control in 1997, pro-Beijing leaders began to talk about rene­ gotiating the terms of the merger. In Taiwan, an important source of investment for the mainland, President Lee Teng-hui said that Beijing "bared the true face of a communist and his true violent nature." Other foreign businessmen were expected to be skittish about investing in a China whose political and economic future suddenly looked so uncertain. 'Death and taxes': George Bush warned that the hard-won "con­ structive relationship" between Washington and Beijing cannot be fully resumed until China returns "to the path of political and eco­ nomic reform." In an interview on Cable News Network, Secretary of State James Baker said China's use of force "will disturb the U.S. gov­ ernment and will disturb the American people considerably." Baker refused to be drawn into a discussion of how the United States might punish China for the crackdown; he even pointed out that Beijing had displayed "a significant amount of restraint" for several weeks and that there may have been "some violence . . . on both sides., But in Congress pressure already was building for sanctions against China. Republican Sen. Jesse Helms, who accused the Chinese of "acting as communists always do, .. wanted to end all U.S. military cooperation with Beijing. Democratic Rep. Stephen Solarz warned that if Bush didn't cut off U.S. arms sales to China, Congress would do it for him. "The enactment of that legislation is as sure as death and taxes," said Solarz. Some people in Washington did not want to hurt U.S.-China rela­ tions at a time when Beijing is enjoying a thaw with the Soviet Union. "There's a relationship worth maintaining with a country of more than 1 billion people," said a senior administration official. "We can­ not undermine 17 years of diplomacy because of one weekend., A few members of Congress also were reluctant to go off half-cocked by im­ mediately suspending arms sales to China. But one of them, Sen. Clai- 126 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES borne Pell, chairman of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, conceded that if "the crackdown continues and there is further loss of life, this cannot help but affect relations between the United States and China." In a speech he made at the start of the student movement, Deng warned that without the unquestioned rule of the Communist Party, university students would become "unbridled and brazen. They will run wild," he said. But now that Deng has begun to use force to crush the students, things may only get worse for China, and for his own regime. "The immediate winners, politically, are likely to be losers over the long run," says Sinologist Michael Oksenberg of the Univer­ sity of Michigan. Deng's economic reforms will probably be put on hold. He will owe the military a debt of uncertain dimensions. His government will be handicapped by the resentment of the people China needs most: the young, the intelligent, the energetic and inno­ vative. The dead of Tiananmen will be exalted as martyrs, a constant rebuke to Deng and the hardliners. By opening fire on the democracy movement, Deng and his supporters may have condemned China to the fate they fear most: chaos. 7. THE CRACKDOWN*

Sandra Burton

The first account that the sleepless people of Beijing heard from their government was sharply at odds with what they had seen and with the live television coverage that the rest of the world was watch­ ing. "A handful of thugs who crave nothing short of nationwide chaos stirred up a serious counterrevolutionary riot in Beijing," said Mayor Chen Xitong in a statement that crackled over Beijing Radio late Sun­ day evening, some 24 hours after the massacre. The army and police had rushed to the defense of the socialist system "with a courageous, dauntless spirit," the mayor added, but had managed to win only a "preliminary victory in the struggle to end the turmoil and smash the counterrevolutionary scheme." The People's Government, he con­ cluded, had no choice but "to resolutely crack down on the rioters and severely punish them without mercy." The student leaders of the democratic movement, who just two weeks before had attracted millions of people to their cause, were paid only cursory attention in the mayor's account, and their allies among the intelligentsia were altogether ignored. Mayor Chen's most glaring omission was predictable. He made no reference to the power struggle between Deng Xiaoping and the hardliners represented by Premier Li Peng, on the one hand, and the liberal faction of fallen Party General Secretary Zhao Ziyang on the other, which had paralyzed the leader­ ship for the previous six weeks. As reruns of old Korean War movies on the state broadcasting network gave way to selective replays of the mayor's message and other official statements that were even more farfetched, it became ap­ parent that the government intended to cover up the brutality of its crackdown on the democratic movement. Although vestiges of a ma­ jor military operation were everywhere in evidence, a clutch of latter­ day thought controllers was hard at work behind the scenes to say it wasn't so. Tanks and armored vehicles were positioned not only in the square and other combat areas, but also at major points of entry outside the city and at most major intersections inside as well. The military had established a particularly heavy presence around the capi­ tal's foreign enclaves, where diplomats, journalists and businessmen

• Reprinted by permission of Time, Inc., dated November 1, 1989, from Massacre in Beijing-China's Struggle for Democracy (New York: Warner Books, 1989). (127) 128 CoNTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES worked and lived.· The undulating wails of ambulance sirens and the sharp retort of automatic-weapons fire punctuated the silence of a city that was temporarily void of daytime civilian traffic. At night the alien groan of APCs navigating the gradual inclines of freeway fly­ overs made sleep difficult. As word of the carnage that had taken place on the way to the square spread through Beijing on Sunday and Monday, tempers flared. One group of grieving students laid the body of a young Tiananmen Square victim out on ice and paraded it from campus to campus for all to see. At the University of Political Science and Law, the students arranged a grisly exhibition of dead bodies. Other students speeded up the distribution of posters and tracts, which had begun to serve as an alternate press during the heady days of the student demonstrations. A concise, 15-point summary of Hong Kong press reportage of the Tiananmen massacre, which was posted in the middle of a busy shop­ ping area, drew throngs of passersby. Likewise, a photocopied hand­ bill identified as "Peking University leaflet" and several photographs of gruesome civilian casualties, faxed from Hong Kong, were eagerly examined by residents of a just behind Tiananmen Square. "Loyalists of June 3," read the document, "the 27th Army is a mur­ derer and a slaughterer." Many people who had taken up defensive positions on the barri­ cades w~en the army moved in switched to the offensive when the major fighting ended. Surrounding stranded convoys wherever they found them on Sunday and Monday, they clubbed fleeing soldiers, broke open the gas tanks of their vehicles and set them aflame. In some cases soldiers beat civilians to the job, torching their own trucks after removing ammunition and supplies. By Monday the streets of the city were littered with the smoldering hulks of dozens of vehicles. Soldiers who approached the inevitable knots of bystanders that gath­ ered near the wreckage were routinely jeered. Just as routinely they fired at those who taunted them, adding more casualties to the already overburdened hospital wards. By then the propaganda campaign was well under way. Official party organs, which only weeks before had burgeoned to include ac­ tual news and photos of the student movement in the streets, were suddenly transformed back into the sort of shrill broadsheets that characterized the Anti-spiritual Pollution Campaign of 1983. Televi­ sion, too, took several steps backward, dropping the usual news re­ ports and substituting the texts of the proliferating martial law decrees. TV newsreaders could not bring themselves to look the cam­ era in the eye as they spouted the new government line. The broad- THE CRACKDOWN 129

casters were warned that they would lose their jobs if they did not put a happy face on the revisionist statements they were required to read. Among the most startling of that genre was one handed down by the Party Central Committee and State Council on June 5, addressed to "all Party members and the people of all China." The purpose of the counterrevolutionary riots, it claimed, was "to negate the Party's leadership and the socialist system" by "killing all47 million Commu­ nist Party members" if necessary. The masterminds of the plot, ac­ cording to the message, were an "extremely few people who have doggedly persisted in taking the stand of bourgeois liberalization and have colluded with hostile forces overseas, providing Party and state vital secrets to illegal organizations." Given the outside objectives of the propaganda campaign, it had to be at least as crude as the previous weekend's military campaign if it were to be effective. The target of the Communist Party Central Com­ mittee's leadership group for propaganda and ideological work was not primarily the audience that had witnessed the truth, either first­ hand or through the lenses of foreign television cameras. Rather, it was the vast silent majority of Chinese, who it feared might have been infected by the same bourgeois liberal notions of free speech, in­ dependent association and government accountabilility that had animated the pro-democracy demonstrations. Chief among those the propagandists wished to inoculate were the 4 7 million Party members who had been exposed to General Secretary Zhao Ziyang's assertions that political reform was an essential adjunct to economic reform. Determined to eradicate any traces of such heretical thinking, Party hardliners had well before the massacre purged all Zhaoists from the propaganda group and even forced the hospitalization of one member of questionable zeal. The replacements the hardliners chose were orthodox political thinkers like Shanghai party boss Jiang Zemin, who could work compatibly with the martial law information units that had taken over newspaper editorial offices and the state broad­ casting apparatus. The campaign that this newly constituted group unveiled two days after the massacre was couched in the only language every Chinese citizen understood: the language of fear. "Maybe we underestimate the viability of Stalinism as a force to­ day," commented a senior Asian diplomat as the government's cam­ paign of intimidation quickly took on a life of its own. That campaign began with the broadcast of a segment of cleverly edited black-and­ white video footage of the devastation wrought by protesters on the night of June 4. The tape was shot by the British-made remote-control cameras on Beijing's major thoroughfares. Purchased by the Chinese 130 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES partly with development aid and purportedly installed to monitor city traffic, the system's cameras had been rolling throughout the six-week period of the demonstrations. The cameras had a low-light feature that allowed them to record scenes at night, and their lenses stripped the protective cloak of dark­ ness from the rioting near Tiananmen Square. They also homed in on individual protesters, like the one caught in the act of smashing the windshield of a military truck and hurling bricks at its trapped driver. The official voice-over of China Central Television (CCTV) reported that both the driver and his assistant had been killed. Both narrator and editor ignored the rest of the action depicted on the tape, which showed APC's roaring by the disabled truck in pursuit of the primary mission of the evening: to retake the square from the pro-democracy forces. As that and similar tapes were played repeatedly on state televi­ sion in the days following the massacre, the propaganda group, aided by 10,000 clerks, combed through miles of other footage previously recorded by the same cameras during the weeks of peaceful demon­ strations in the square, looking for frames of key leaders. Once identi­ fied, their faces were frozen into individual electronic mug shots for display on the evening news. Not that the leaders were likely to elude the ever expanding police dragnet, which included university cam­ puses, transport terminals, known dissident safe houses and those pre­ vious preserves of quasi-immunity, the foreign diplomatic compounds, which housed journalists as well as diplomats. During the day or two after the massacre, student leaders, their intellectual mentors and their chief contacts inside the Party ran for their lives. Those who had made contingency plans and secured exit permits were able, with the help of accommodating diplomats, to ob­ tain foreign passports and visas. Among them was Marxist theoreti­ cian Su Shaozhi, 63, who was ousted from his post as head of the Institute of Marxism-Lenism and Mao Zedong Thought in the wake of the 1986-87 student movement. Provided with a Dutch travel docu­ ment, Su was able to board an evacuation flight with a group of Euro­ pean students. An indifferent immigration official simply stamped his passport without questioning what a Chinese man of his age was doing in such company. Others sought refuge inside embassies or prevailed on foreign friends to hide them and help spirit them to safety by way of a sort of underground railway to the freewheeling Special Economic Zones in southern China. There, sympathetic entrepreneurs and bureaucrats helped shepherd the suspects to freedom across the border into Hong THE CRACKDOWN 131

Kong and Macao. One fugitive made his way onto a Chinese sightsee­ ing boat and jumped overboard off Macao, where he was rescued. Several others, who are believed to have been smuggled out of Chinese ports in cargo containers, surfaced safely weeks later in France. On the morning of Wednesday, June 7, several people who would figure prominently on the government's most-wanted list of alleged counterrevolutionaries were secretly hidden in the diplomatic com­ pound of Jianguomenwai and the adjacent embassy row. Without warning, soldiers manning a checkpoint in the vicinity launched a se­ ries of terrifying puzzling maneuvers. Just before 10 a.m., thousands of foot soldiers and a convoy of scores of trucks loaded with troops belonging to the despised 27th Army left Tiananmen Square and rolled eastward. All night long the men of the 27th had been moving out of the capital, to be replaced by fresh troops. When the trucks approached the Jianguomenwai overpass, sev­ eral detoured into a side street on which the American and British embassies are located, firing shots into the air and yelling, "Go home! Go home!" as they passed. Meanwhile, the main column of troops proceeded down Changan A venue, spraying the air with erratic bursts of gunfire, as if to ward off possible attack from unseen enemies. As bullets rained down on them, bicyclists and shoppers scrambled to es­ cape the apparently trigger-happy troops by ducking behind hedges or hitting the ground. To residents of the apartments inside the Jianguomenwai, which overlooked the street, and to employees in the adjacent thirty-story office tower belonging to the China International Trust and Invest­ ment Corporation (CITIC), the incident seemed anything but random. The bullets that crashed through the plate glass seemed to come from buildings of similar height across the street, rather than upward from the soldiers on their trucks. In addition, the shots appeared to have been aimed at specific targets. The small office of the Yugoslav industrial-engineering firm SMELT Global Project Management on the 27th floor of the CITIC building, for example, was left a shambles by eight shells, which shat­ tered the windows, ripped the blinds and tore through the plaster­ board walls and ceilings, dusting the desktop computers with shards of insulation. Ballistics experts who examined the flat trajectories of the bullets concluded that some of the shots came from the roof of the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences, a hotbed of behind-the-scenes support for the student movement that had been occupied by the mili­ tary immediately after the massacre. SMELT's commanding view of the academy and Tiananmen 132 CoNTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

Square beyond had made it a popular vantage point from which to photograph army maneuvers. Just before the attack, a Japanese TV cameraman had been warned by Foreign Ministry officials not to con­ tinue taking pictures from SMELT's windows. Afterward; an East European diplomat speculated that the attack was "a planned action to frighten away foreigners." Said he: "This is the sort of terror that does not cause any physical harm." Minutes later, hundreds of rounds were fired into the nearby apartments of eleven American diplomats and numerous other for­ eigners. The firing was so intense that the U.S. Embassy lodged an official protest with the Chinese Foreign Ministry. The U.S. charged that the army had made a deliberate and premeditated attack on a building inside the diplomatic compound that had become a popular observation deck from which foreign military attaches could watch the tanks patrolling the bridge below. The embassy report challenged the official Chinese account, which held that the apartments were fired on by troops who were retaliating against a sniper. "There is no doubt in this embassy's opinion that certain apartments were deliberately targeted by the army," said the U.S. report, which was released a month later. It noted that one U.S. defense attache's quarters had been pockmarked with 18 bullet holes. One intelligence expert offered an explanation for why the Chi­ nese fired into that particular embassy building. "The night before, the Public Security Bureau and the soldiers arrested 24 people and had them kneeling on the ground in the execution position while we watched from a balcony," he recounted. The security officers, aware that foreigners had trained their binoculars on their prisoners, moved away. "I am absolutely convinced that those people would have been killed if diplomats had not been there." He was quick to admit, how­ ever, that he had no idea what happened to the prisoners afterward. Early the following morning at least one of the diplomats was warned by his Chinese counterparts not to remain in his apartment. By noon his flat was among those that had taken direct hits. Mean­ while, Chinese soldiers had sealed off the gates to the compound on the pretext that the mysterious sniper was inside. Residents were barred from leaving until plainclothes agents had removed an uniden­ tified Chinese man. Witnesses reported that the man they removed was not looking especially worried, leading many foreigners to suspect that he was a plant and that there was no suspected sniper at all. In fact, some sources claim that the man the authorities were really look­ ing for was Fang Lizhi. According to reports by the Hong Kong mag­ azine The Nineties and Agence France Presse, Fang had been briefly THE CRACKDOWN 133

hidden there after the massacre while waiting for the U.S. Embassy to answer his request for refuge. The family and friends of Fang Lizhi and his wife Li Shuxian, a physics professor at Peking University who is as active a crusader for political change in China as her husband, feared for the couple's safety after the imposition of martial law. In late May their friend Perry Link, a professor of Chinese literature and director of the U.S. Acad­ emy of Sciences office in Beijing, who had been with the Fangs when police prevented them from attending a Feb. 26 banquet hosted by President Bush, inquired of an American diplomat whether the Fangs could seek refuge inside the U.S. Embassy, if the need arose. The an­ swer he received was noncommittal. The morning after the massacre, Link bicycled to the Fangs' spa­ cious apartment near Peking University to check on the safety of his controversial friends. He found them relatively calm regarding their own condition, but fearful that the country's leaders had gone mad. Before they parted company, Li had agreed that if they needed Link's help, she would telephone him with a coded message: "Please bring the children here to play." At 5 p.m. that day she called with the message. Link rushed back to find her nearly mute with fear. Friends had phoned to tell them that their names topped the government blacklist. This time it was Fang himself who queried Link about the possibility of seeking tempo­ rary refuge in the U.S. Embassy. Because it was Sunday, however, the embassy was closed. So Link drove the Fangs and their son to the nearby Shangri-La Hotel and booked them a room in his name. On Monday Li's students called her to report that the military was preparing to take over the campuses located in the university belt in northwestern Beijing. They told her they were ready to die on the barricades, but urged that she and Fang seek protection. With that, Link drove the family to the U.S. Embassy, where they met with three ranking officials. Fang asked permission to hide in the embassy for a couple of days until the matter blew over. The diplomats explained that it would be impossible to keep his presence there a secret, given the large Chinese staff employed by the embassy and the likelihood of bugs. On the other hand, to grant him official protection as a tempo­ rary refugee was tantamount to sentencing him to a long confinement inside the embassy-not to mention the damage such a gesture would do to Sino-American relations. Realizing that public disclosure of any attempt by Fang to seek shelter from Americans would discredit both himself and the demo­ cratic movement, he decided to abandon the idea and settle for a U.S. 134 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES visa. That afternoon Link installed the Fangs in the nearby Jianguo Hotel. When he tried to call them the next day, June 6, he received no answer. In Washington on the same day, a State Department official said that Fang Lizhi and his family had been permitted to take refuge in the U.S. Embassy in Beijing. According to Agence France Presse, Fang was smuggled out of the hotel and into what was regarded as a more secure hiding place inside the Jianguomenwai compound that afternoon. The following morning, shortly after the shoot-out in the street, residents noted that limousines belonging to top-ranking Amer­ ican and British diplomats, which had been parked in the compound lot, departed just minutes before Chinese soldiers rushed in. Before the day was over, the city was roiling with rumors that Deng had died, Li Peng had been shot by an assassin and civil war between rival army divisions was imminent. Anti-American rhetoric grew heated with the announcement on CCTV that Fang had indeed fled to the U.S. Embassy. A Foreign Ministry spokesman termed U.S. charges that the Chinese military had massacred students "flagrantly unwarranted" and called the Bush Administration's suspension of arms sales and military exchanges with Beijing "absolutely unaccept­ able to us." In a televised news conference, government spokesman Yuan Mu defiantly pronounced the regime "unafraid" of either "con­ demnation or sanctions." He also produced new official casualty figures for the June 3-4 fighting: no more than 300 people had died, only 23 of them students. One diplomat felt he had witnessed it all before. "Everything we have seen in the past four days is preparation for a red Stalinist ter­ ror," he said. "What they are doing is attempting to drive out every foreign eye, so they can go about their executions." The shooting in the streets set off a stampede among expatriate dependents to join an evacuation effort that was already under way. Husbands with large attache cases stood in long lines at the Bank of China's foreign-ex­ change windows, waiting to change bills that were noncon­ vertible outside the country. Meanwhile, their wives and children sat anxiously in a convoy of embassy vans, trapped inside the locked gates, until police completed their search for the alleged sniper. Hys­ teria mounted as they watched Chinese soldiers outside, pointing their guns at residents and forbidding entry to embassy guards who had been assigned to escort the convoy. The scene at Beijing International Airport was chaotic even before that particularly besieged group arrived. Donna Anderson, an American, had been camped inside the terminal with her husband and THE CRACKDOWN 135

three children for 24 hours by that time, waiting with hundreds of other foreigners to get on a flight to Tokyo. "We didn't know about the shoot-out until just before we boarded the plane,'' she recalled. "The report was that someone had fired rockets into the CITIC build­ ing." By then, said Anderson, "order inside the airport had broken down. The waiting lines had deteriorated, and people were shoving each other and tearing at the standby list. We were walking on the conveyor belts to get from section to section, and the employees, who seemed to be as scared as anyone else, were not telling us to get off. People were beginning to panic." The panic was palpable that night, as an Asian diplomat watched an army supply convoy of 127 trucks pass under his balcony, bound for Tiananmen Square to the west. The lurid yellow-green glow of mercury-vapor lamps along the highway silhouetted the bayonets that protruded from the backs of the troop trucks escorting the convoy. Earlier in the day the 20 tanks and the APC's of the 27th Army that had blocked the intersection below pulled out and headed east. That move fed rumors that the soldiers were preparing to defend themselves and their bloody conquest of the square from one of the rival armies that was said to be riding to the rescue. Ever since the massacre, Bei­ jing residents talked wistfully about the prospect of civil war between the "bad guys" of the 27th Army and the "good guys" of the 38th, who had reportedly balked at orders to enforce martial law. An Asian diplomat did not dismiss such specualtion. For one thing, the presence of an estimated 250,000 troops in the Beijing re­ gion was a reflection of the political power struggle that was being waged there. Before martial law had been declared, many com­ manders had questioned the deployment of troops into what was es­ sentially a political arena. A few commanders had reportedly refused, and they had been replaced. There were reports that more armies had been called up to prevent the dissident officers from pulling a coup. "The troops did not arrive here exclusively to deal with the students," a Western diplomat acknowledged. "There was a certain form of power play going on there, and troops were positioned against each other. One reason there were so many troops was that each faction was, in effect, showing its cards." For another, wall posters in Beijing described "skirmishes" be­ tween several armies. Moreover, a segment of one of the ring roads that encircles the city remained littered with chunks of concrete road dividers well after street sweepers had begun cleaning up most of the city's streets. That was no accident, according to an Asian defense attache. "Those chunks are standard antitank barricades that are 136 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

designed to snarl the treads," he said. Two barricades had been erected at that particular junction, he explained. "The first barricade, which was made of buses, was erected by the people, but the second, the pieces of concrete, was laid out by the 27th Army." The 27th presumably wanted to stop some other unit's tanks. Other evidence that Beijing-based diplomats and military experts had collected was more circumstantial, but no less intriguing. "Some of the troops that moved through Beijing on the night of June 4 were not issued any ammunition," said an Asian envoy. "Only Yang Shangkun's men were given ammunition. So for the first few days, Yang was saying, 'We have all the firepower, so don't move against us.' " His informants contended that although the Chinese military was indeed divided over the use of force against the students, its com­ manders were too loyal to Deng to bolt while he was alive. "Accord­ ing to one scenario, there are a lot of fence sitters in the military who are waiting for Deng to die, at which point they can switch alle­ giance," he said. Given the uncertainty of the situation, it was no wonder that the government had been prompt to deny the report, first broadcast in Taiwan, that Deng was dead. Continuing headlines, in Hong Kong and elsewhere, that he was suffering from prostate cancer kept the level of tension high. "They are not sure where the threat is coming from, so the tanks swivel in all directions," the Asian envoy observed, "and the soldiers are very paranoid, very jumpy." Yet reports of major clashes in the western hills or at the Nanyuan military airfield to the south of the city remained unverified. So did stories in the Hong Kong press describing divisions within the ranks. The independent newspaper Ming Pao alleged that because other armies had refused to clear the square, the tough 27th Army, which was loyal to Yang, had been given the job. As compensation, added the paper, all brave officers would be promoted one grade and courageous soldiers sent to military training schools. Other stories de­ scribed the resentment that was building against the 27th by troops who did not take part in the massacre. Soldiers from a Beijing military region unit that had chosen not to shoot their way through the citizen barricades were reported to be so distraught on June 5, when they learned about the violence wreaked by the 27th Army, that they ripped off their badges, abandoned their tanks and trucks and retreated into the nearby Military Museum. Protesters promptly torched the vehicles. "They are not fighting it out," said an Asian ambassador about the curious behavior of some other military units, "they are just rna- THE CRACKDOWN 137

neuvering around each other." The big question mark in the minds of most foreign observers was the Beijing garrison, which was believed to be under the influence of Defense Minister Qin Jiwei, its former com­ mander. A longtime ally of Deng, Qin was said to have opposed the use of force against the students. He was eyed by his fellow officers, as well as by foreign diplomats, as a likely candidate to lead a coup. "Those elite forces, which have not yet been brought into play, are sitting it out in the west of the city," said the ambassador. His defense attache had assured him that rival forces were "trying their best to disengage and compromise rather than use massive force against each other." However, he remained uneasy. "You never know," he commented. "One of my Chinese sources says the army has gone mad. He warned me, 'The soldiers have blood in their eyes.'" On June 9, Deng Xiaoping broke the suspense by addressing a group of top military officers, Politburo Standing Committee members and Party elders. It had been 24 days since the senior leader had made his last public appearance, his historic meeting with Mikhail Gorbachev. The setting-Deng surrounded by top government lead­ ers at a large oval table inside Zhongnanhai-was designed to show that he was not only alive, but in charge and undaunted by world criticism of the massacre. As television cameras panned the assembled guests, diplomats studied their TV screens carefully, preparing to note any significant absentees. One by one, the members of the Central Military Commission and the general staff greeted Deng, who walked under his own steam and stood unaided during a silent tribute for the June 3-4 military "martyrs." Then the group posed for a photo. There was General Yang Shangkun, dressed in a sports jacket, as if to underline his civil­ ian role as President rather than his military role as Permanent Vice Chairman of the Military Commission and de facto commander of the martial-law forces. There were his brother Yang Baibing, a member of the Central Military Commission and the army's top political commis­ sar, and Chief of Staff Chi Haotian, another relative of Yang's by mar­ riage. More interesting was the parade of officers who had been rumored to favor Zhao Ziyang. Defense Minister Qin Jiwei was pres­ ent, as were Deputy Chief of Staff Xu Xin and Central Military Com­ mission member . "Absolutely unified," declared a Western intelligence expert af­ terward. "Every element of the general staff was present, including the two members of the Party's Central Military Commission who we believed were on opposing sides." The only glaring absence had been 138 CoNTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES anticipated: Military Commission First Vice Chairman Zhao Ziyang. What had earlier looked like signs of civil war had probably been no more than "the usual sorts of arguments that a military man would use about calling in military forces to handle what should be a political situation," the intelligence expert mused. Despite such reservations, he argued, "the army will follow orders." That was very much the message Deng delivered in his speech to the assembled leaders. He looked frail. His left hand trembled, his face was puffy, his eyes were ringed with dark circles. But as he spoke, his words grew in coherency. At one point he dismissed an unwanted bit of prompting from Li Peng, who sat in the seat of honor to his right, with a withering look. "This storm was bound to happen sooner or later," he began. "As determined by the international and domestic climate, it was in­ dependent of man's will." He classified the problem as "turmoil," and had said as much in the vituperative speech to his inner circle, which was distilled into the notorious April 26 People's Daily editorial. Be­ cause some elements of the leadership had disagreed with his conclu­ sion about how to handle the situation, he argued, events had got out of control and had provoked a "counterrevolutionary rebellion." At that point he had had to reach out to other elements of the Party and to the military for support. Gesturing to the top leaders and to the four members of the so­ called Gang of Elders who surrounded him at the table, Deng said, "We still have a group of senior comrades who are alive, we still have the army, and we also have a group of core cadres who took part in the revolution." The leadership, he said, had been able to analyze the situation and detect that behind the students and the ordinary people who took to the streets there lurked "a rebellious clique and a large quantity of the dregs of society," who were intent on "overthrowing the Communist Party and the socialist system . . . and establishing a bourgeois republic entirely dependent on the West." The army had stopped them. "This army retains the traditions of the old Red Army," said Deng with evident satisfaction. Noting that "there are not so many veteran comrades in the army, the soldiers are mostly little more than 18, 19 or 20 years of age," the old Long Marcher was all the more heartened by the troops' performance. "No matter how generations change," he said "this army of ours is forever an army under the leadership of the Party, forever the defender of the country, forever the defender of socialism, forever the defender of the public interest." The show of unity by the military and the old revolutionaries THE CRACKDOWN 139

under Deng certainly quelled speculation about impending civil war. Yet it also heightened anxieties that a clutch of paranoid old men would now have the power they needed to carry out a massive purge of all the individuals and interest groups whom they perceived to be enemies of the Party. The performance also raised the question of what price Deng had had to pay for the Old Guard's support. Throughout his decade in power, he had played the role of master balancer of factions, seemingly belonging to none. Had he been forced by circumstances this time to sell out to the hardliners? The events of the next two weeks led even his admirers to conclude that he had. Ideological slogans that had not been widely heard in recent years suddenly seeped back into the public vocabulary. Two of the elders, former National People's Congress Standing Committee Chairman Peng Zhen, 87, and State Vice President Wang Zhen, 80, had been among the key architects of the 1987 campaign against "bourgeois lib­ eralization." Zhao had managed to derail that campaign, and Deng had gone along with him. Now Deng himself laced his speeches with warnings against bourgeois liberalization. At the same time "class struggle," a Marxist concept that Deng had publicly tossed into the dustbin of history at the momentous Third Plenum of the Eleventh Central Committee in 1978, returned to vogue. That plenum, which launched China's historic process of modernization, also ordained for the first time that economic development and modernization must take priority over class struggle. More chilling than the reactionary phrases were the images of repression that quickly bombarded the TV screens. On Saturday came the announcement that 400 "scoundrels" accused of attacking soldiers had been arrested in cities all over China. Footage that would be re­ peated on national TV again and again over the next week showed a sweating prisoner, his hands cuffed, his head bowed, being led into an interrogation room and questioned at gunpoint by police. A student and a worker in Shanghai who had belonged to in­ dependent associations that supported the democracy movement in that city also figured prominently in the initial propaganda. The worker, Li Zhibo, had been beaten in the head by his interrogators and sported a puffed-up eye. Yao Yongzhan, a Hong Kong student ac­ tivist who had been accused of heading the Shanghai Autonomous Union of College Students looked to be in better physical shape. He had been grabbed at Shanghai airport while in the company of a group of British students and several consular officials who had provided him with a ticket to Hong Kong. He was detained for carrying restricted articles. 140 CONTEMPORARY ASIAN STUDIES SERIES

As if to caption the scenes of justice that were being meted out to this first group of prisoners, the authorities announced a nationwide ban on autonomous student and worker associations. Fearful from the start that groups without ties to the Communist Party might root themselves among the masses, much as the Solidarity labor movement did in , Deng had warned intimates to beware of Chinese stu­ dents' demands for an independent student union. Were independent student unions to crop up, he had predicted back in April, "we will have many Lech Walesas, not just in Beijing but in every province." Throughout that weekend, CCTV repeatedly broadcast the first in a series of show-and-tell features: an attempt to persuade viewers to tum themselves and their neighbors in to the authorities, rather than wait to be hunted down. The 69-second video clip was identified as footage from an American television interview of a 40-year-old Beijing resident. In it he described the "massacre of students by the army" at Tiananmen Square, claiming that 20,000 people had died. Superim­ posed on the footage was the message "This man is a rumormonger," followed by instructions to denounce "those spreading false rumors" by going to the nearest police station. In fact, CCTV had violated canons of international broadcasting behavior-and, probably, law-by snatching a sequence of raw video feed belonging to ABC News off a satellite during transmission from Tokyo to . Moreover, CCTV had passed the sequence off as information that had already been aired on American television. It had not. On seeing the Chinese version, ABC correspondent James Laurie recalled, "I was extremely upset." CCTV had, he realized, aired footage that ABC had left on the cutting-room floor. What happened was that the day after the massacre, Laurie had conducted one of the many man-in-the-street interviews in Beijing with the Chinese man in question. In the 21/z minutes of conversation that Laurie's crew captured on tape, the man had touched upon sev­ eral taboo topics, including the death toll in the square. Deprived of direct satellite transmission from Beijing since the imposition of mar­ tial law, Laurie shipped his unedited tape to Tokyo for transmission by satellite to New York. He then sat down in his hotel room in Beijing, wrote a script to go with the images, and read it, together with instruc­ tions on how to edit the tape, over a phone line to ABC in New York. What finally appeared on ABC's nightly news was a mere eight-second snippet of the man in the street with an English-language voice-over paraphrasing what he had said about bloodshed in the Chinese capital. "We are probably naive," says Laurie, "but we never thought anyone would do that." What is worse, the Chinese stratagem worked. Sev- THE CRACKDOWN 141

eral days after the "rumormonger" was exposed on CCTV, he was identified and arrested in his hometown of . The state network later showed the accused man, Xiao Bing, an aluminum-window maker, in police custody. Two women had spotted the "rumormonger" buying cigarettes. They had followed him to his hotel, reporting his whereabouts to the Public Security Bureau. "At first he refused to confess what he did," said the People's Daily. "But after the videotape was played, he confessed." On Sunday CCTV went after Fang Lizhi and his wife Li Shuxian. "These two criminals are escaping to avoid punishment," read the government appeal for their capture, without mentioning that they had taken refuge inside the U.S. Embassy. "Once they are found, they should be immediately detained, and the Beijing Public Security Bu­ reau informed." Under an old photo of Fang, the TV report offered this description of China's most famous dissident: "About 1.72 me­ ters, a little fat, hair hangs to one side; long, square face, glasses; throws out chest and raises head when walking." As the Fangs' photos and descriptions flashed before the eyes of viewers, the Chinese government stepped up its verbal attacks on the couple. Beijing Radio read an order from the city Public Security Bu­ reau to alert border guards and airports throughout the country to prevent their escape. Meanwhile, the controlled press published ever more shrill anti-Fang commentaries. The authorities even issued a pamphlet titled The True Face of Fang Lizhi to discredit him. "You've gone to hide inside a foreign embassy?" questioned an un­ signed letter in People's Daily. "Exactly what kind of hero are you?" On the same day a signed commentary in that paper questioned Fang's patriotism and his continued usefulness to the pro-democracy move­ ment. "Now he hides himself in the U.S. Embassy and has degraded his position to that of a beggar," said the commentator. As the pace and quantity of arrests escalated early the following week, the nightly television news expanded beyond its usual 30 min­ utes to accommodate the proliferation of mug shots and the increas­ ingly heavy propaganda. On Tuesday most of the extra air time was devoted to photos of 21 student pro-democracy activists wanted for leading the "counterrevolutionary rebellion." Most of the faces that flashed on the screen were frozen stills lifted from tapes made of the demonstrations in Beijing and other cities, or photos shot by the hun­ dreds of plainclothes police who mingled with the demonstrators throughout April and May. Authorities had scrutinized the footage and matched faces with police records and other evidence, such as the 142 CoNTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES license registrations of the countless bicycles that police had picked up at demonstration sites and confiscated. The most charismatic of the student leaders, Uerkesh Daolet [Wuer Kaixi], was doubly honored by the showing of a separate short feature that was taken by a remote-control camera mounted on the wall of a dining hall in the Beijing Hotel. The footage was aired with a voice-over implying that the students at the table had been feasting when they were supposed to be fasting. Yet decipherable dates on the clip showed that the dinner actually took place more than a week after their hunger strike had ended. By Wednesday the frequent replays of the list of most-wanted stu­ dents began to pay off. , a 20-year old physics student at Qinghua University in Beijing, was arrested in the central China city of Xian. Zhou was turned in by his sister, an employee of the Air Force Institute there. "Just after the evening broadcast of the arrest warrants on television," said the TV commentator, "Zhou's sister and her husband went and made a report to the local police after talking it over. Five policemen went and arrested him. He admitted he was a student leader." Foreign residents were horrified at what they saw as his sister's betrayal of Zhou Fengsuo. But a Chinese viewer saw it otherwise. "She had to do it," he said, "there is no place to hide in China." In­ deed, in a country where marital spats and birth control are the busi­ ness of neighborhood committees, privacy and secrecy are at a minimum. Even in the best of times, Chinese citizens have been pris­ oners of their hukoubu and individual identification cards, which are necessary for obtaining jobs, housing and rationed food staples like grain and edible oils. Chinese travelers must routinely show their identification cards to buy train and plane tickets, and sometimes even provide letters of permission from their work units before boarding long-distance sleeper trains. Passports for foreign travel are good for one trip only. Chinese citizens who wish to go abroad must either buy foreign-exchange certificates on the black market, at a premium, or apply to the Public Security Bureau for coupons with which to buy airline tickets or limited amounts of foreign exchange. During the first few days after the massacre, controls in train sta­ tions and airports were lax. Those fugitives who were lucky enough to possess the proper papers, forged or otherwise, could slip onto trains bound for distant provinces or even out of the country. However, those who did not get out early faced almost insurmountable obstacles. Once the crackdown came, soldiers stationed themselves in and around airline terminals and train stations, and special teams were THE CRACKDOWN 143

mobilized to check the papers of arriving and departing passengers. Photo charts of the most prominent fugitives from the democracy movement were posted at airline ticket-sales counters all across the country. Travel restrictions were tightened in such a way as to render visas obtained before the massacre useless without an additional exit permit. More ominous than the limits placed on travelers trying to leave China were those confronting people who had no choice but to stay. "My work unit has been assigned a quota of baotu to bring in," said a young Communist bureaucrat, who supported the student movement. So had his Party branch. Although he could hardly be classified as a rioter, he had openly participated in some of the demonstrations. While he was unlikely to be detained, even a self-criticism would serve as a black mark against him in his dossier and would almost certainly hinder his career for as long as the conservative leadership remained in power. The Party branch's quota concerned him even more. "Expul­ sion from the Party is the worst thing that can happen to a Chinese," he said unequivocally. Loyalty to the Party told him to confess and write a criticism, but adherence to his own ideals told him not to repu­ diate his support for democracy. Students were in an even more precarious position than bureau­ crats, since their actions had been so openly recorded, and since they were dependent on the state to assign them their jobs. Prominent leaders of the illegal student organizations like Zhou Fengsuo were in the most immediate danger. Even if they managed to ftee to a distant province, they ran into problems when they tried to get jobs, housing or grain. "Even the pedicab drivers are organized," explained a Chi­ nese official. Anyone applying for a job, no matter how menial, would have to present an identification card, as would anyone wishing to buy rice at the low, state-subsidized price. A fugitive risked discovery or starvation unless he had enough money to buy food and shelter on the open market, or he had had the foresight and the necessary Hong Kong connections to forge a new identity-and a new ID card-for himself and a new hukoubu for his family. "In the new, open economy brought about by the reforms, the did not seem so important," said a Chinese official. "People who could find part-time work in private or foreign companies and who earned enough money to buy their food and rent their housing on the private ~arket could get along without one. Or, for a price, they could get thetr hukou transferred from their hometown to Beijing by a corrupt Public Security Bureau official." But the crackdown had mo­ mentarily changed that. "Many young people who had not committed 144 CoNTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES serious crimes fled Beijing when the crackdown came," said a foreign resident. "They had been in technical violation of the law for staying on in the capital after graduation without a hukou, and they feared they might be picked up for that reason." As the propaganda intensified and the number of arrests multi­ plied, it began to appear that workers were even more vulnerable to arrest and harsh penalties than students, intellectuals and bureaucrats. Whether they lacked the connections to obtain travel documents­ passports, visas-or whether family responsibilities prevented them from fleeing quickly enough, workers constituted the bulk of those de­ tained in the immediate wake of the crackdown. And, as a Shanghai court made clear in the first trial related to the democracy movement, workers were the first to draw the death penalty for their participation in the movement. On June 15, three workers who had been charged, along with seven other people, in the burning of a train in Shanghai were sen­ tenced to death. The incident stemmed from a June 6 sit-in on the railroad tracks to protest the Beijing massacre. An oncoming train had rammed the demonstrators, killing six of them. In retaliation, protesters attacked the train with petrol bombs, setting it on fire and beating some of the fire fighters who attempted to extinguish the flames. No further deaths were caused by the fire, but nine carriages, six police motorcycles and 900 bags of mail were destroyed, and trans­ port on the busy Shanghai-Beijing line was halted for 50 hours. The court took pains to stress that the three accused had nothing to do with the student movement, but were "local hoodlums and thugs tak­ ing advantage of the disruption to cause trouble." The tough verdict was intended as a warning that the government would not flinch in the face of hostile world opinion to eliminate what it regarded as the sources of domestic disorder. On the same day the Shanghai verdict was reported, People's Daily carried a front page analysis of Deng's speech to the army. "If we give the impression of concessions or weakness, China will become a vassal of the imperial­ ists once again," according to the paper. Analysts believed the death sentences also reflected the government's fear that the latent dissatis­ faction prompting so many workers to join the student protests might flare into unrest and strikes later on. As dramatic as news of the death penalties was, the proceedings in the Shanghai courtroom were no match for the performance that was playing itself out in the court in the Manchurian city of Changchun the same day. There, 26 workers charged with the rela­ tively minor crimes of instigating social unrest and spreading rumors THE CRACKDOWN 145

were paraded at gunpoint into a packed hall. In a ritual that was re~­ iniscent of the Cultural Revolution, the audience jeered as the detain­ ees filed past, heads shaven and wearing placards around their necks imprinted with their names and crimes. The manner in which the Chinese government and state media chose to flaunt the harsh public treatment of prisoners sparked a storm of protest in Western nations. The U.S., which had suspended arms sales early on to protest the mass killings in the square, had prepared a list of additional sanctions that could be brought to bear in the event that the executions proceeded. No sooner did the Shanghai verdict become public knowledge than U.S. Congressmen began lobbying for the enactment of those further sanctions unless the Chinese authorities granted clemency to suspects who had been sentenced to die. The U.S. outcry did not daunt Chinese law-enforcement officials, who sentenced eight more people-workers, peasants and a jobless drifter-to death in Beijing for beating soldiers and burning vehicles on the night of June 3-4. In fact, the Supreme People's Procuratorate even moved to speed the wheels of justice by instructing judges that if the evidence was clear and sufficient, the courts "should not be ham­ strung by details, and should expedite the process of arrests and prose­ cutions." Furthermore, as an official circular suggested, public sensitivities should not be spared. "It is necessary to pay attention to publicity," said the circular, "to increase the social benefit of the cases, suppress and deter criminals, and encourage the masses to struggle against counterrevolutionaries and serious criminal offenders." No sooner had such instructions circulated than some particu­ larly gruesome footage was aired on Beijing TV screens. It showed the charred and mutilated body of a dead soldier, slouched against the wheel of an army vehicle. As the camera tightened its focus on the dead man, one could see that his torso had been ripped open by a sharp object and his entrails pulled out and prominently displayed. The man accused of disembowelling the soldier, Zhang Jianzhong, was shown under interrogation by police. Zhang reportedly admitted to being a member of a "dare-to-die brigade" that had assaulted soldiers in Tiananmen Square. According to the voice-over, Zhang confessed to picking up a shard of glass from the pavement and using it to dis­ embowel the dead soldier. Zhang was said to have described in detail how he tied a length of plastic rope to the man's intestines, pulled them out and displayed them prominently over his body. Zhang's story proved to be a clever diversion on the part of the government. It increased viewers' awareness of the intensity of the violence that was unleashed in the streets on the night of June 3-4. At 146 CoNTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES the same time it further compounded the confusion sown by the au­ thorities as to which side had committed the worse crimes, the soldiers or the students. As the symphony of propaganda swelled, analysts feared that a purge of major proportions was under way. Whether or not Deng could control it was a question that could not be answered, they agreed, until the Party Central Committee finally met to determine the fate of Zhao Ziyang. Zhao had not been seen in public since his tearful visit to the hunger strikers in Tiananmen Square on May 19. Although it was a foregone conclusion that he would be replaced, the Party leadership--like the government bureaucracy-was divided be­ tween the "dove" faction that supported Zhao's soft line on the pro­ tests and the "eagle" faction that wanted to smash the students and dump Zhao. As a result of that split, Deng had been unable to secure a consensus. "You delay a Central Committee meeting when you are not sure how it will come out," commented a Western analyst. The hardliners were not deterred by the stalemate. They simply intensified their lobbying of Central Committee members. While Yang Shangkun briefed the Central Military Commission about Zhao's failings, Li Peng ordered the secretaries of all 30 local, provin­ cial and regional Party committees brought to Beijing, where he pro­ ceeded to meet separately with each one. After a full week of such dialogues in late May, he had built a core of support within the 175- member Central Committee for bringing a limited case against Zhao. It took him another month to secure enough votes to call a plenum. Finally, on June 23, the Fourth Plenary session of the 13th Cen­ tral Committee was secretly convened to take formal action on the matter. As a precaution against any unforeseen vote switching or any sudden surfeit of abstentions from resentful members, the army was called in to "protect" the meeting. "They used guns to force us to put up our hands in approval," one member confided to the Hong Kong magazine Zheng Ming. Fifty of the 285 members and alternates re­ portedly pleaded illness and did not attend. With communication between Chinese sources and foreigners sharply curtailed under martial law, veteran diplomats and journalists fell back on the China-watching skills they had honed during the Cul­ tural Revolution in an attempt to analyze the scarce data available. "It's just like the good old days," mocked one diplomat, on hearing the phrase antiparty clique for the first time in twenty years. The only immediate source of information on the plenum was a picture taken by the photographer son of Yang Shangkun that ran on the front pages of the official newspapers the next morning. It showed THE CRACKDOWN 147

Zhao and , the sole Politburo Standing Committee ~ember who had sided with him, seated across a table from Deng dunng the meeting. Surprisingly, both appeared to be applauding Li Peng. "That's Party ritual," said a senior Asian diplomat, who explained that the significance of the photo was not in the applause but in the fact that the two fallen members were present to hear the charges against them. "The picture is the Party's way of saying, 'We have them under control and we are handling the matter within the Party in our own way.'" Although the verdict against Zhao did not go so far as to accuse him of counterrevolutionary activities, as rumor had predicted, it was harsher than that brought against either of his two ousted predeces­ sors. "At the critical juncture involving the destiny of the Party and the state," read the communique that was later made public, "Com­ rade Zhao Ziyang made the mistake of supporting the turmoil and splitting the Party.'' More than that, it charged that the General Sec­ retary himself had "unshirkable responsibilities for shaping the tur­ moil." The man who had, first as Premier and then as Party chief, overseen the implementation of a decade of unprecedented economic reform in China, received only faint praise for having done "some­ thing beneficial to the reforms and the opening of China to the outside world." The traits that had stood him in good stead when the economic reforms were popular and the rate of growth double-digit now weighed like shackles on him. He had, said his peers, taken "a passive approach to the adherence of the Four Cardinal Principles and opposi­ tion to bourgeois liberalization." Likewise, he had "gravely neglected ideological and political work.'' Accordingly, the Central Committee voted to strip him of all his posts-though not of his Party member­ ship. In a somewhat ominous compromise, the "doves" and the "ea­ gles" also agreed to reserve the right to "look further into his case." Optimists observed that the prospect of further investigation signified that Zhao had not given his opponents the confession they wanted. Pessimists were worried that the Old Guard was trying to press more severe charges against him. Even thornier than the dilemma of how strongly to sanction Zhao was the question of who should replace him. With Zhao's elimination, at least temporarily, from the succession sweepstakes, the new Party chief would automatically vault straight to the head of the line of pos­ sible heirs apparent to the aged and ailing Deng. Each of the octogenarians was playing kingmaker and pushing his protege for the job. Chen Yun supported the conservative Vice Premier and State 148 CoNTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

Planning Commission Minister . The ambitious Peng Zhen championed Public Security Minister Qiao Shi. Known as "the Chi­ nese Andropov"-a reference to the late Soviet leader , who was once KGB chief-Qiao was widely perceived as the front runner for the post. In the end, Deng imposed his own, more malleable choice by win­ ning the endorsements of former President and Li Peng for Shanghai Party boss Jiang Zemin, 63. Jiang was ultimately accept­ able to the other factions because, lacking a political base or apprecia­ ble military support, he did not threaten any of them. "He's manageable, and he'll serve as a place holder until this power struggle is sorted out," said an Asian diplomat. "Deng was looking for a carbon copy of himself when he chose Jiang," said a Western diplomat, "someone who was for reform but at the same time tough on nonsense." An engineer who worked briefly as a trainee in the Stalin Automobile Factory in in the mid- 1950s, Jiang slogged his way up through the bureaucracy from the state import-and-export and foreign investment commissions. In those agencies, he was involved in the establishment of China's Special Eco­ nomic Zones. He eventually became Minister of the Electronics In­ dustry and then Mayor of Shanghai. Like Zhao, Jiang satisfied Deng's preference for someone with hands-on experience in the implementa­ tion of his precious reforms. Not coincidentally, Jiang's easy manner with foreign businessmen and his ability to speak their languages (Japanese and English, as well as Russian and Rumanian) figured heavily in his selection. Party lib­ erals obviously hoped he would help restore the lost confidence of in­ ternational investors and lenders and moot the cries for more sanctions from the West. A Beijing-based diplomat came away im­ pressed after a first meeting with the beefy new secretary. "He seems like someone you could sit and drink a bottle of wine with," he said. At the same time the hardliners looked favorably on the decisive meas­ ures he had taken to quell the unrest that roiled Shanghai in the wake of Hu Yaobang's death. Among other tactics, Jiang paid the people's , a volunteer brigade armed with clubs, 30 renminbi (about $7.50) a day to disperse student demonstrations. Although it seemed a crude tactic before June 4, it was subsequently judged a humane alter­ native to calling in armed troops. The Central Committee also ratified the elevation of Jiang and two other Politburo members to the elite Politburo Standing Commit­ tee, making it a six-member body and therefore under the thrall of tie­ breaking nonmembers Deng and the Gang of Elders. Significantly, THE CRACKDOWN 149

none of the six Standing Committee members was named to replace Zhao on the Party's all-important Central Military Commission. The Standing Committee was thus left without a direct line to the other major power broker behind the throne, the army. That gap left a con­ venient role for Yang Shangkun, the Military Commission's perma­ nent Vice Chairman, to fill. China watchers pointed to a photo in which Yang was flanked on either side by three Standing Committee members as illustrative of the fragmented nature of the newly consti­ tuted leadership. Backed by the military, in full control of the media and with a presentable new party chief in place, that leadership immediately set about trying to convince the world-and its own people-that life had returned to normal. Besides denying that a military massacre had taken place in Beijing, the state-controlled media began insisting that the worst was over and that nothing was substantially wrong with China that a strong dose of ideological education could not cure. The return-to-normalcy campaign began the week after the crack­ down with a photo on the front page of the official English-language showing two foreign tourists, two soldiers and a farmer all smiling together on the Great Wall. "Beijing is gradually returning to normal, with the tourist industry showing the most serious effect of the recent social unrest," the article began. But Beijing was far from normal, as a group of Japanese tourists learned some days later. Soldiers halted their bus and, citing martial law restrictions, forced them at gunpoint to tum over films they had taken of Tiananmen Square under military guard. Two tourists who refused were taken into custody and briefly detained. Foreign businessmen were treated with greater sensitivity. Those who had fled to Hong Kong or beyond were plied via phone and telex with promises of heretofore unattainable appointments or concessions on their return to China. "I expect all will be back very soon, since security is now no problem for them," commented Economic Rela­ tions and Trade Minister Zheng Tuobin at a press conference in mid­ June. Those foreign traders who stayed on in Beijing were showered with invitations and publicly eulogized for their dedication. An offi­ cial of the Italian automobile company Fiat was invited to meet a vice minister who had eluded him for months. During a reception at the Great Hall of the People, however, he suddenly found himself branded an "official friend" and surrounded by TV cameras. That incident made other members of the foreign business com­ munity more wary of the hospitality of the Chinese. "There is great sensitivity on the part of the American business community not to be 150 CONTEMPORARY ASIAN STUDIES SERIES manipulated or ambushed for an interview by Chinese television," said a U.S. official. "Many companies are keeping their people out of China for that reason. They don't want to contribute to the credibility of the Chinese leadership." That credibility had rested for a decade on the words and deeds of a government trying to convince the world it was dedicated more to modernization than to ideology. The perception that Deng Xiaoping's China was a more benign and pragmatic than its Soviet counterpart was destroyed on the night of June 3-4. Many for­ eigners underestimated Deng's obsession with stability and the pri­ macy of the Party, and thus felt shocked and betrayed by his sudden resort to violence. The subsequent propaganda campaign only deep­ ened their revulsion. The reality behind the rosy Chinese propaganda was that the economy, which had already been going through a painful process of restructuring aimed at cutting inflation and recentralizing state con­ trol, was in dreadful shape. Inflation had not fallen below the high 30% mark of the previous year in some cities. Indeed, it was expected to exceed that rate when the cost of keeping 250,000 martial law troops in and around Beijing and the production losses incurred dur­ ing the months of political unrest were factored in. "Some sources are already talking about 100% hidden inflation," said a European diplo­ mat, who was concerned that the government was so preoccupied with its theories of political conspiracy that it was ignoring economic problems he considered even more threatening to its survival. "I don't think they have had time to focus on the mess they are in," said a Western analyst. "They are putting most of their energy into re-educating people." Indeed, everyone from soldiers to Party cadres to factory workers to graduating college seniors was required to spend several weeks studying "the important speech" delivered by Deng on June 9, in which he asserted that the student demonstrations had "developed into a counterrevolutionary rebellion." Once they un­ derstood the origins of the counterrevolution, the Party ideologues contended, they would shed their bourgeois liberal tendencies. Meanwhile, foreign trade and tourism-at once the cause of and the deliverance from their problems-were in the doldrums. Tourism, the country's No. 1 foreign-exchange earner, was expected to fall to half the nearly $2 billion it earned in 1988. The upheaval in Beijing had occurred during the peak spring travel season, resulting in the cancellation of some 300 tour groups, totaling 11,535 people, in the month of May alone. Similar losses during the fall season would re­ verberate far beyond the mirrored and marbled lobbies of China's lux- THE CRACKDOWN 151

ury hotels. A month after the crackdown, there were so few tourists in Beijing that Rumors Disco, which catered to foreigners, waived its $13.50 entrance fee. Nor was the prospect much better for 1990, when Beijing was scheduled to host the Asian Games. Although Chinese officials as­ sured the organizers of the Games that they would go on as scheduled, only about half the necessary 27 stadiums and gymnasiums were ready. The government was still $58 million short of the $150 million it was expected to need for the event. Worse, if the political situation remained unstable, the Games might fail to attract enough spectators to be profitable or might be canceled altogether. That would only ex­ acerbate the country's growing budget deficit. In a speech reported by the People's Daily in July, Finance Minister Wang disclosed that state expenditures, including subsidies to money-losing state fac­ tories, had risen twice as fast as revenues during the first five months of the year. Faced with the dreary outlook for tourism in general, joint-ven­ ture partners looking to cut their losses in unfinished hotels and con­ vention centers grew increasingly quarrelsome. One particularly ironic tussle was over which side would pay damages for the 310 win­ dows of the sleek new Beijing World Trade Center complex that PLA soldiers had shot out during their June 7 rampage down Changan Av­ enue. "Why would the soldiers do that?" questioned a Singaporean, whose firm is under contract to decorate one of the center's two hotels. "Didn't they know that it's not a foreign project, but one that is jointly owned by China?" Bigger questions than that one remained unanswered after the crackdown. Foremost among them was why Deng, who had often said he wanted to live to see the historic raising of the Chinese flag over Hong Kong, had given orders that were so certain to destroy confidence in the viability of his "one country, two systems" concept for recovering sovereignty over the British colony. Beijing's new Party chief Jiang Zemin tried to limit the damage when he met on July 11 with a small delegation of Hong Kong officials helping draft a new Basic Law for the colony. The officials were impressed with his style but far from reassured about his government's intent. "We practice our socialism, and you may practice your capitalism," the affable Jiang told the Hong Kong visitors, giving each a warm handshake and addressing the largely -speaking group in their common lan­ guage, English. Jiang added a bit of folk wisdom: "The well water does not interfere with the river water." Not long afterward, Jiang's words rang hollow. Beijing fired Lee 152 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

Tze-chung, the director of Wen Wei Po, the mainland-supported news­ paper in Hong Kong that had denounced the massacre. Lee's removal made a mockery of the provisions for a free press that were enshrined in the 1984 Sino-British Joint Agreement on Hong Kong. When the crackdown began, orders went out to Party cadres and security forces to go after five types of counterrevolutionary elements. Guided by those criteria, several thousand people were picked up and questioned or detained, and at least 30 were executed. (This figure does not include secret executions). On June 30, "Circular No.3" was issued to Party members. It doubled the types of crimes that could be labeled counterrevolutionary. Crime No. 10, for instance, involved people who take revenge on those who informed on them for any one of the nine other crimes. The 25,000-word report, which Mayor Chen of Beijing presented to the 8th Meeting of the Standing Committee ofthe National People's Congress on the same day, added more fuel to the frenzied search for counterrevolutionary elements that was now going on nationwide. The report strung together a wealth of quotes, opinions and rumors lifted largely from the Western and the overseas Chinese press into one enormous paranoid conspiracy chronicling the rise and fall of the re­ bellion. "Some political forces in the West always attempt to make socialist countries give up the socialist road," the Mayor began. These sinister Western forces, he said, plan eventually on "bringing these countries under the rule of international monopoly capital and putting them on the course of capitalism." Chen's evide;nce was bizarre. First he cited a Sept. 19, 1988, meeting between Zhao and an American "ultra-liberal economist," who turned out to be the American conservative economist Milton Friedman. The Mayor intimated that the publicity given this tete-a­ tete in Hong Kong newspapers showed that a plot was afoot between Zhao and the U.S. to "topple Deng." The essence of the plot was to "whip up public opinion for covering up Zhao Ziyang's mistakes and pushing on with bourgeois liberalization in an even more unbridled manner." On that shaky foundation, the Mayor proceeded to erect a lean­ ing tower of innuendos and half-baked conclusions that embraced all the government's perceived enemies-from Fang Lizhi to elements of the U.S. Government, whom Chen implicitly accused of conspiring with Zhao and the students to overthrow the Chinese Communist Party. "The hardliners are preparing to try Zhao," warned a disaf­ fected senior Party member. "Behind the scenes they are building a case that effectively accuses him of treason." He cited an unreported THE CRACKDOWN 153 speech during the June Central Committee plenum in which Mini~ter of Public Security , a longtime confidant of Deng Xiao­ ping, accused Zhao of being in cahoots with an American CIA agent, the Hungarian-born American anti-Communist philanthropist George Soros and several associates of China's best-known private enterprise, the Stone Corp., in plotting the overthrow of the Chinese Communist Party. As if that were not enough, the hardliners also made Zhao a tar­ get of the Party's newly energized drive against corruption. In sum­ marizing the lessons learned in the course of putting down the counterrevolutionary rebellion, Deng had stressed that many people had lost confidence in the Party's leadership because of corruption. In no time at all, the new party leader launched an anticorruption cam­ paign in which Zhao and his businessmen sons were offered up as con­ venient scapegoats. "Our efforts in cracking down on corruption were not very suc­ cessful in the past," State Council spokesman Yuan Mu told a press conference in mid-July. "This was inseparably linked to the mistakes of Zhao Ziyang," he declared, explaining that the Party General Sec­ retary had taken a casual attitude toward corruption, brushing it off as an inevitable by-product of economic reform. As shrewd observers of the situation were quick to point out, however, Zhao's enemies would prosecute the fallen General Secretary at their own peril. "If they want to be really stupid, they can try him," said a Western diplomat. Given his reputation as an economic re­ former, many of whose programs would continue to be followed, and the fact that he had been ousted for siding with the students, he had the makings of a martyr. "They are treading dangerous ground," said the diplomat. "The leadership could make a real antihero out of him." No one knew that better than Deng, who had made a political comeback as a martyr himself and was therefore judged unlikely to hand Zhao such an opportunity. Meanwhile, however, Deng did nothing to restrain the elders and their allies from their goal of "mercilessly rooting out" all the manifes­ tations of "bourgeois liberalization" that had cropped up during the years they had been relegated to the political sidelines. They ordered the jamming of broadcasts by the popular Voice of America, planted vicious editorials against it in the press and secured the expulsion of two of its correspondents. Zealous followers in several cities even turned in a few unfortunate Chinese who were caught listening to it. They pressured foreign joint-venture hotels in Beijing to halve the 154 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

number of satellite broadcasts of foreign news programs to their guests and banned the sale of foreign periodicals and a growing list of books. As substitutes, they began promoting a patriotic line of audio and visual aids to understanding the counterrevolutionary rebellion. The official Xinhua news agency launched a TV ad campaign for sets of twelve "commemorative" photos of the "suppression of the counter­ revolutionary rebellion" at the exorbitant cost, by Chinese standards, of $20. The captions were as memorable as the street scenes. "This picture shows hooligans inciting those masses ignorant of the facts to attack the enforcers of martial law," read the caption on a stock photo taken on June 3 of chanting students atop a barricade of buses, with helmeted soldiers looking on. Newspaper ads promoted a cassette tape featuring ten top hits from China's early revolutionary years and the later Cultural Revolu­ tion, including I Am a Soldier and Party, Beloved Mother. A govern­ ment-produced video titled The True Story ofthe Turmoil, which went on sale to foreigners at a seminar for overseas travel agents, bore a seal authorizing airport customs agents to exempt it from the confiscation prescribed for private photos and tapes of the June 4 violence or its aftermath. "The conservatives definitely won this round," said a Western diplomat. "They are in full sway, and they don't need to worry too much about the balance between factions at this point." That made for a dangerous situation, he explained, because they were devoting so much energy to the purge that they were overlooking the ultimately more destabilizing problem of the economy. "They feel they are on a roll," he said. "They are saying to each other, 'Let's cure the country of Zhao once and for all.' " Such madness was likely to continue for another three months, before the country's real problems intruded on their fantasies of a populace purged of its bourgeois tendencies and once again grateful to the Communist Party for all it has given them. "The tragedy of China is that there is no system of retirement," observed an Asian ambassador to Beijing. "The people who took part in the Long March made a tremendous contribution to the building of this country. But these people, who are now over 80, and whose minds probably function for only two hours a day, are still making policy. For them the revolution is more important than anything else. In its name they shed blood in the past and are doing so again." United in their age and the ties made in their young manhood, China's leaders had become so hopelessly isolated from more than 50% of the population born after the founding of the People's Repub­ lic that many younger Party members who considered themselves THE CRACKDOWN 155 good Communists no longer identified with them. "There is a mysti­ cal nature to the relationship between the octogenarians and the Party," observed a veteran China watcher. "The threat they perceiyed from the students was a threat not to the country but to that mystical body, the Party, as constituted behind the walls of Zhonghanhai." It was a threat not only to their power and privilege but to their theol­ ogy. "Because what the leaders said was considered canon law," he added, "what the students were advocating could only be heresay." The old leaders' remedy-large-scale ideological re-education­ was being administered under the gun. Students tolerated it because it was a prerequisite to a diploma and a decent job assignment. Factory workers went through the motions rather than visit trouble on them­ selves by resisting. But after ten years of relative leniency, most Chi­ nese chafed under the discipline of reciting the catechism. Few relished the notion of forsaking the bourgeois pleasures just as they were on the verge of being able to afford them. And, like up­ wardly mobile groups everywhere, the concept of democracy appealed to their burgeoning sense of self-confidence and to their idealism, neither of which the Party had properly addressed. "It's too late for re-education," observed an American official. "In Beijing even the Party cadres' kids were involved in the student movement. These are not the country bumpkins of the 1960s. Like kids in the U.S. they are more sophisticated than their parents in many ways. They have grown up on TV too." If the elderly leadership had succeeded in suppressing the autono­ mous students' and workers' groups and their democracy movement for now, it appeared to have given little thought to how to solve the problems of official corruption, rising prices and untapped human po­ tential, which had bred the discontent that ignited the protest move­ ment in the first place. Nor had it been able to produce an acceptable successor. "The new Party leadership is probably transitional," com­ mented a Western diplomat on the selection of Jiang Zemin. "They need a , but there is no one in sight." Conventional wisdom ruled that when Deng died, Yang Shangkun would replace him. However, given Yang's age, that was merely a temporary solution. "This is the only country in the world where an 81-year-old is running to replace an 85-year-old," joked the diplomat. "Since June 4, China has entered a dark period," intoned the country's most prominent journalist, Liu Binyan, to an audience in Hong Kong one month after the massacre. "Perhaps it is not the darkest moment in Chinese history, but it is certainly the darkest in 156 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES the past 40 years," he said. And yet Liu predicted that this period of repression would last no longer than two years. By then the country's economy would be in chaos, and discontented peasants would join stu­ dents and urban workers in demanding change. As he spoke, student leader Uerkesh Daolet [Wuer Kaixi], polit­ ical scientist Y an Jiaqi and four other survivors of the surfaced in France to announce the establishment of the Chinese Stu­ dent and Democracy Movement United Association [Federation for a Democratic China]. For the first time since 1911, the government in Beijing was about to face a well-financed revolutionary movement in exile, not unlike the one that had succeeded in overthrowing the impe­ rial system. Time was on the side of these young activists. Deng's repressive policies, predicted Yan, would "quicken the end of the present re­ gime." It was time for China to adopt a new political structure to end "thousands of years of the dynastic cycle." As an adviser to Zhao, Y an had hoped to point the way for the Party leaders themselves to spearhead the political reform that he considered an essential comple­ ment to economic reform. His efforts and those of Zhao had failed, but his blueprint was still valid. As for the students, although scores of their number were now in jail on the mainland and many more were on the run or in hiding, their nascent network remained intact. And, as it had so many times in the recent past, the vast, extended family of overseas Chinese was ready to provide the necessary moral and finan­ cial support to perpetuate itself abroad until the day when it could reunite within a stable and prosperous nation. On July 4 the leaders of the new movement issued from France a declaration "in the name of the students and masses slaughtered in the recent student and democracy movement as well as those who are now on the wanted list." Addressed to "all descendants of the Chinese people and the peace-loving people of the whole world," it proclaimed June 4 a national day of sorrow in China. The declaration also launched a campaign to obtain the 1990 Nobel Peace Prize for the Chinese students and the citizens of Beijing. "The progress of China's democracy movement is now uncontrollable, like the breaking its dike," said the declaration. Announcing a break with the ideology on which it had been weaned, China's new generation pro­ claimed, "Modem and contemporary Chinese history has taught us sufficient lessons that fighting violence with violence and 'political power grows out of the barrel of a gun' will never guide China to genuine freedom and democracy." 8. A FORTNIGHT LATER*

Harrison Salisbury**

Back in Connecticut following Tiananmen and its aftermath. I think I have been able to fill out the story of the massacre-how it happened, why it happened, who was responsible, and what lies ahead. It is not a pretty tale. The origins go back to the autumn of 1986 and the vicious campaign that drove out Hu Yaobang, with his bril­ liant, almost childlike curiosity and daring ideas. Hu was a man intent on real change in China. He had Deng's confidence. He was a genu­ ine threat to the geriatric relics of the Long March and to their reac­ tionary allies, the military. Like Deng, Hu had little sense of measure. He often overshot the mark. It may seem silly, but his off-the-cuff proposal that China aban­ don chopsticks in favor of Western knives and forks was the straw that broke the camel's back. All of China hooted Hu down. Much of the West joined in. This and a dozen similar eccentricities were picked upon by the elders when Hu demonstrated sympathy and an inability (or unwillingness) to combat student and intellectual unrest. The student pro-democracy demonstrations began in the fall of 1986 and peaked in November and December. Hu tendered his resignation as Party Secretary on January 16, 1987. Almost immediately a campaign against what was called spiri­ tual pollution was launched, designed to combat the Western ideas that Hu had permitted to flourish. Liu Binyan, China's most influen­ tial newspaper writer, an investigative reporter of heroic stature, was expelled from the Communist party and forbidden to write for his newspaper, the People's Daily. Liu specialized in exposes of corrup­ tion within the Communist party, and was known for his honesty and courage. He proclaimed himself-much as did the students on

• Reprinted by permission of Little, Brown & Co., dated November 7, 1989, from Tiananmen Diary: Thirteen Days in June (: Little, Brown, 1989). ** Through an astonishing coincidence, the author spent the first thirteen days of June, 1989 in Beijing and later published his firsthand account of the massacre in a book entitled Tiananmen Diary: Thirteen Days in June (Little, Brown, 1989). This excerpt, written at his Connecticut home a fortnight after his return to the U.S. from China, records his analysis of Tiananmen. (157) 158 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

Tiananmen-as a supporter of an ethical Communism, one true to its ideals and not dedicated to privilege and power. This was the public side of the Hu Yaobang-"spiritual pollution" crisis. There was a hidden agenda, as I discovered in following up the revelation that PLA officers at that time were forbidden to listen to BBC and VOA. The army and public security administration began, for the first time, to prepare for riot control. Both the army and the Security Bu­ reau purchased riot-control chemicals, stanchions, and protective clothing for the riot force. Selected military and security battalions, including the elite 8341 regiment stationed in Zhongnanhai, began training in crowd control. The security forces probably began to study South Korean tactics in combating student demonstrations. The Security Bureau purchased a device that went into extensive use in the Tiananmen crisis, a minia­ ture TV camera developed by the Japanese that is smaller than an electric pencil sharpener. The camera can be automatically controlled from a central station to transmit pictures of all four sides of an inter­ section. The Japanese used the images from these cameras to help adjust the stop-and-go system of traffic lights to speed the flow of traf­ fic through congested areas. The Chinese purchased seventy-three of these cameras and put them up at Beijing's principal intersections. They said they would use them to spot traffic violators. The videotape pictures taken by the cameras would provide irrefutable evidence of violations. Whether that innocent purpose was the real reason behind the purchase cannot be known. In fact, in the Tiananmen affair the cam­ eras were used to photograph demonstrators, street battles, and stu­ dents. They produced grainy, low-lighting pictures seen by American (and Chinese) viewers on TV of many of the combat actions. These cameras enabled the Security Bureau to identify participants in the demonstrations. But there is no evidence that the troops brought into the city had had the benefit of the special riot training. The evidence goes the other way. On July 2 Li Peng told a Chinese-American visitor that the army had been compelled to use live bullets because it possessed neither tear gas nor rubber bullets. But tear gas was employed by some units, including the 8341 regiment. If riot-control equipment was not on hand, it could readily have been purchased and delivered in the six weeks between the decision to use force and June 4. Clearly, the government wanted a riot-a police riot. A FORTNIGHT LATER 159

The fact that these preparations were put in motion in early 1987, a time when student demonstrations were more intense than they had been at any time since Deng Xiaoping came to power, supports my notion that the military was readying itself for another and more se­ vere outbreak of unrest. There was no way in advance to predict that Hu Y aobang would die on April 15, 1989, nor that his death would touch off escalating student demonstrations. There had been a spate of rumors in March and early April of 1989 of a possible comeback for Hu. Much attention was given to an unusual photograph published by the Beijing papers of him and Zhao Ziyang in friendly conversation. Hu had been suffering from heart disease but was said to be in improved health. However, he suffered a massive heart attack at a Politburo meeting on April 8, brought on, some said, by a violent disagreement over educational policy and, quite possibly, over the government's attitude toward the students. The report of a violent quarrel in the Politburo was officially denied. Hu's death touched off immediate demonstrations at Beijing and other universities, rapidly snowballing into marches on Tiananmen Square. This was the kind of disturbance that the security officials had had in mind when they embarked on their preparations. It is probable that the crisis they envisioned was the inevitable emergency that would accompany the death of Deng Xiaoping. "Plan A" was likely drafted for this event. When the Hu Y aobang demonstrations esca­ lated and the decision was made on April26 to employ force (reflected in a People's Daily editorial of that date), Plan A was apparently put into place as a method of dealing with the Tiananmen contingency. That Deng Xiaoping was directly involved in this there is no doubt. A variety of sources attest that he took part in the delibera­ tions and that, at some point, he became convinced that a plot threat­ ening not only to overthrow the Party but also to take his life and those of other leaders was developing under cover of the student protests. Deng, having come to power after the chaos, paranoia, intrigue, and plots of the Cultural Revolution and the Gang of Four, was highly sensitive to such dangers. He had not returned to the elite compound of Zhongnanhai when he came to power in 1977-78, and he discour­ aged his associates from living there. "It is not safe," he said: "one bomb could kill us all." He had a house built for himself with strin­ gent security features, TV monitors, steel walls, bullet-proof glass. It is located just north of the Forbidden City, adjacent to the Defense 160 CONTEMPORARY ASIAN STUDIES SERIES

Ministry, in Iron Lane, where the old imperial granaries once stood. One of Deng's first moves as the Tiananmen crisis mounted was to change the palace guards (his personal guards, that is), and he in­ structed his associates to take the same precaution. This was a page out of Stalin's book. The Soviet dictator periodically changed his per­ sonal guards and usually had them shot. He acted on the theory that after a few years in a position of high trust a man inevitably would be tempted to join the other side. If he hadn't-too bad. Stalin was tak­ ing no chances. Neither was Deng. (The changing of guards had also been a frequent tactic of Mao's and of 's and her Gang of Four.) Whether at this time Deng moved out of his bullet-proof house to the security of a special nuclear-safe command center in the military district of the , to the west, is not certain. But at a key point in the developing drama Deng and his closest colleagues did move there to direct operations. Amid these mounting tensions Party Secretary Zhao Ziyang de­ parted for North Korea on a state visit, leaving Beijing by special train on April 23. Three days later, in his absence, the decision was made to employ military force against the demonstrators but to delay action until after the Gorbachev visit, May 15-17. The text of the People's Daily editorial reflecting that decision was telegraphed to Zhao in Pyongyang. Zhao, so I have been told, concurred with it. The ratio­ nales were the growing chaos in the city, the need to restore Party discipline, the rising impact on industrial production, and (supposed) evidence that a plot against the government was taking shape. Zhao got back to Beijing on April 30. The crisis had heightened. The students were planning a huge protest for May 4, anniversary of the 1919 demonstration. Zhao found himself selected to give a milk­ and-waterish May 4 speech, and he received firsthand information from his own staff about the true nature of the demonstrations. Serious doubts arose in Zhao's mind about the hardline solution. At the initiative of the Military Commission, troop movements were already under way. Deng was Chairman of the Military Commission, Zhao Vice Chairman, and Yang Shangkun Permanent Vice-chairman, nominally number three on the organizational chart but, in fact, oper­ ating head of the body. (Deng has often insisted that Zhao was con­ centrating on the work of the Military Commission, but it is doubtful that this was true.) The Military Commission occupies a unique position in China. Because the Red Army under Mao brought about the Revolution, the A FORTNIGHT LATER 161

Commission has always had a special place. Mao served as Commis­ sion Chairman during his life. Deng has held that post while ostensi­ bly shedding all others. It is the supreme and ultimate authority in China. In Zhao's absence, plans for the military solution of Tiananmen had gone forward swiftly under Yang Shangkun's direction. Zhao was not without influence with the military; he had close ties with the de­ fense minister, former commander of the Beijing military district, and some other professional military men. But, of course, Deng had been put into office by a group of old Long March commanders, some of whom in retirement still commanded enormous prestige, both military and political. The weight of Deng and Yang Shangkun out-balanced that of Zhao in a ratio of 100 to 1. With the troops already moving in and the visit of Gorbachev days away, Zhao shifted his position. He decided to oppose a military solution. His decision aroused anger and dismay. "But you had agreed to the proposal," he was told. "How can you change your mind?" Zhao held his ground. He could not be party to the planned ac­ tion. Zhao's stand threw the leadership into confusion. At all costs it wanted to present a . The row raged right into the Gorbachev visit. Zhao tried to resolve the matter by tendering his resignation. That was refused, just as 's had been during the Cultural Revolution. Liu had gone to and admitted that he had made mistakes; Mao had pointed them out. He wanted to resign, go back to a farm in Yanan, and retire. He would take all responsibility on himself-it was his fault, not that of his associates. Let him quit and let the country get on with its business. Zhou Enlai replied sadly: "I am sorry but you will not be permitted to resign." Zhao took his case to Yang Shangkun, who had become very close to him. Several times in difficult periods Yang had been of assist­ ance. Zhao told Yang that he had to see Deng Xiaoping and put his case before him. Yang pondered a moment and then, it was said, told Zhao: "I'm sorry. But in this case I can't help you." Yang had be­ come Deng's gatekeeper. Zhao took a bold step. He told Yang he, too, was sorry, but he could not support a decision with which he did not agree. It may have been this defiance of the Party line that emboldened Zhao to tell Mikhail Gorbachev that while Deng had given up all his positions at the 1987 Thirteenth Party Congress, he had actually re­ tained a veto over everything. "We agreed," said Zhao, "to submit all important questions to him." 162 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

This was hardly news. It had been apparent to all that regardless of title, Deng possessed the highest authority in the country. But Zhao's honest acknowledgment of this universally known secret sealed his fate. Not only was Zhao refusing to accept a Party decision, he was telling the head of China's great and sometimes hostile neighbor a Party "secret." Events raced forward. Gorbachev came and went. Hardly had the Soviet leader left town than on May 18 Deng left as well. He went to Wuhan, where he had, as chairman of the Military Commission, convened a meeting of the heads of China's seven military districts. He had summoned the commanders to extract from them a pledge of support for the military crackdown at Tiananmen. He spent the day with the commanders and came away with their unanimous support in hand. The way was cleared for action. On May 19 Zhao visited the student hunger strikers at Tiananmen. He had fought for three days for permission to go there. Finally, the Party leaders gave in. Zhao went, but he was accompa­ nied by an unsmiling, laconic Li Peng. With tears in his eyes, Zhao spoke to the hunger strikers. He said he had come "too late, too late" but expressed hope that the students' high aspirations ultimately would be met. Li Peng said nothing. Later that evening under Li's signature and that of Yang Shangkun the order placing Tiananmen and other areas of Beijing under martial law was issued. Tragedy now waited around the comer. Why had events reached this critical point? There were two pos­ sible causes. First, Deng felt-and declared to his Party associates­ that Zhao had betrayed him, specifically by the remark to Gorbachev, and in general by his support of the students and refusal to follow the Party diktat. It is not clear that Deng believed Zhao was engaged in a conspiracy, but it is clear that there were those who were making such suggestions to Deng. For Deng, Zhao's "betrayal" may have served as the final impetus to go ahead with the crackdown, an action that had been delayed several times to that point-probably by Deng himself, against the desires of the hardliners on the Standing Committee. Second, from the earliest days of his comeback Deng held a nega­ tive attitude toward the students. He and his fellow members in what was simply called the club, a cozy institution where Deng and his council of elders met to chat, to plan, and to play bridge, contemptu­ ously termed the young wa wa, children. They were uppity, rambunc­ tious, ungrateful They didn't know their place. The elders knew best. The wa wa did not appreciate what had been done for them. As Deng A FORTNIGHT LATER 163 told his fellow club members, he had given them more presents than anyone else who had ruled China. He let them go abroad by the tens of thousands to study or to work. He put no impediment on what they read or wrote (hardly true). The state was spending more money than ever to educate them. The state had treated them like prodigal chil­ dren-and how had they repaid this? With shouts and slogans and, worst of all, with total betrayal. At a time when he was engaged in the supreme diplomatic negotiations of his career, those with Mikhail Gorbachev, they had publicly humili­ ated him. They had caused him to disrupt his schedule of meetings and entertainment. He did not know from one moment to another where he could meet his guest; he was no longer master in his own house. This had never happened in history to a chief of state. "I could not figure out who was in charge," Gorbachev was quoted as saying after his Beijing visit. Deng put his relationship to Zhao and to the students in the same context-they had both caused him loss of face and personal humilia­ tion. As one who knows Deng well told me: Deng is a brilliant man, brave, courageous, bold. He took the steps that had to be taken to get the country going after Mao and the Gang of Four. But he has a terrible weakness. If he thinks someone he trusts has let him down or betrayed him, his temper is like lightning. Nothing can withstand him. This is the great tragedy. I think, however, that Deng's temper is not the whole answer. I date the problem back a year, just as I was leaving China at the end of June 1988. I had expected to meet with Deng, and this hope had been encouraged by Yang Shangkun, who was my liaison with Deng-but the meeting never materialized. Deng had gone to Beidaihe, his usual summer retreat. He swam and relaxed there each year, and the gov­ ernment moved there, too. That June 1988 the Party simply split apart. As it met at Beidaihe, it was unable to agree on how to handle urgent problems. Basically those were economic-the uneven pace of development, the overinvestment in non-economic high-rise office buildings and hotels, the uncontrolled pouring of state funds into trivial municipal and county projects, often riddled with graft, the inability of banks and fiscal controllers to curb racing inflation and the rise of the cost of living. Two things made it impossible to resolve these issues: Deng's in­ sistence that his development program move forward in the fast lane, and the savage attack of the Party reactionaries, who sensed a strategic moment to dump the whole Deng program. 164 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

Aided by some of the military, the elders succeeded better than perhaps even they realized. They halted the Deng program. Deci­ sions were postponed until a later meeting, in July, when Deng was compelled to accept transfer of economic questions from Zhao's hands to those of Premier Li Peng. To protect Deng-beginning now to show age-slowed responses-blame for the troubles was heaped on Zhao Gust as earlier, in 1986-87, it had been heaped on Hu Yaobang). The Beidaihe meetings resolved nothing. The crisis continued. The government allotted token subsidies to the hard-pinched Bei­ jingers and other big-city residents. The question of graft and corrup­ tion and influence peddling by sons, daughters, and relatives got only lip service. The arguments at Beidaihe were no more effective than those in Petrograd in 1916 and early 1917, when Czar Nicholas II and his ad­ visers struggled to resolve the crisis that was overwhelming . They changed nothing but the names of the ministers. China rolled ahead to disaster with the players in the power elite worrying not about the country but about how the power pie would be cut. The oligarchs saw a chance to prolong their reign a few more years. The military knew it held the top cards and that in a crisis power would flow its way. Some individuals, like Yang Shangkun, saw a chance for a quantum leap upward. What Deng thought or felt is not recorded. In August 1988, just after the events at Beidaihe, I met a gifted (but sometimes mistaken) observer of the Chinese political scene. He had been in China and was in a state of great excitement. Deng had lost control. He was no longer in charge. He thought everything must be done immediately-while he was still among the living. Haste was the only word he understood. He was not in touch with reality. He no longer was able to judge a situation on the basis of real evidence. No one could talk to him. The sessions at Beidaihe had been a failure. They had broken up with everyone in conflict. The countryside was in awful shape. No food. The cities were a disaster because of inflation. No meat in city or country. A total mess. The slogan was going around: "Better Mao and 48 than Deng and 108"-meaning that earning 48 yuan a month under Mao was better than earning 108 yuan under Deng. I was appalled. This report did not jibe with anything I had seen. I knew it was false in major segments: The countryside was not starv­ ing. There was plenty of food and plenty of money. I had been travel­ ing in China almost continuously for six or seven months. This was not a description of the China I knew. A FORTNIGHT LATER 165

What bothered me most was that this description was issuing from very high quarters, from persons who had been at Beidaihe. This might not be the true situation, but it was the situation in which they wanted others to believe. I was so upset by the report that I wrote some of my highly placed Chinese contacts and told them they should know what kind of stories were emerging from official quarters in China. I thought it was propaganda to support the campaign of the reactionaries to drive Zhao from office and compel Deng to abandon his reform and opening poli­ cies. In so doing China would move back toward the bankruptcy of Stalinist economics-just at a time when the Soviets were trying to imitate China's remarkable innovations. I smelled high politics-succession politics-in all this. The struggle for the dragon throne was under way. It seemed likely that Deng was losing vigor. Possibly he was getting out of touch. Possibly there were those in whose interest it was to detach Deng from reality. Much the same had happened in Mao's last years. After this I watched closely and listened to my Chinese friends. The battle swirled around Zhao. Sometimes the liberals seemed to gain a bit, sometimes Zhao unexpectedly emerged into prominence, then was lost in a swirl of political fog. Li Peng's picture moved in and out of circulation. A political battle was in progress, but it was hard to distinguish it from the normal give-and-take of Chinese politics. Certainly I had no premonition, as China moved toward the forti­ eth anniversary of the and the tenth year of the Deng regime, that she would explode into Tiananmen. Nor did the emergence of the student demonstrations in April 1989 and their escalation into May and finally June seem to me to presage disaster. I confess I was mystified at the irresolution of the government and its unwillingness to enter into a simple dialogue with the students at an early stage, when an easy solution was not beyond reach. As tension rose, as the troops moved in, as the government began to prepare for arbitrary action, another suspicion arose. Was there not something deliberate in all this? Was the crisis temperature being al­ lowed to rise until military action became inevitable and even necessary? That hypothesis becomes inescapable when viewed against the background of the government's program. It was-and is-totally un­ able to cope with the economic problems that have been spun off by Deng's fast-paced development. Nor does it seem able or willing to 166 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES touch the issue of graft in high places. This made more attractive a military solution. It would solve nothing basic, but it would terrorize the population and give the Party a chance to impose absolute control on an unruly citizenry. It would keep them from shouting. They might suffer and starve, but they would be afraid of the army's guns. Harsh, yes. But to preserve its power, the junta would halt at nothing. The notion, held by many Americans, that the bright young people in Tiananmen were touching the hearts and minds of Deng and his men was naive. Unless the army was a complete society of fools, only a deliberate desire to initiate and continue terror could explain the manner in which Tiananmen was handled-the extraordinary firepower directed at random against the citizenry. Whatever the number of students killed on Tiananmen, it was only a fraction of the general public mowed down. The incredulity over the casualty figures of three or four thousand reflected the fact that these casualties were not inflicted in the center of town but in the outskirts, where the conduct of the PLA had touched off a genuine people's war. Tens and hundreds of thousands of ordi­ nary citizens sprang from houses and flats to oppose armor with bare hands. The spectacle of the lone man dancing in front of an armored column to bring it to a halt was a symbol of the people of Beijing. They emerged en masse to try to convince the people's army that they were the people. A man of whom I heard walked from the suburbs and up to the barrier line just beyond the Beijing Hotel early on the evening of June 4. He walked to that point and the Tiananmen troops opened fire. The bullets coursed past him on either side. He could not believe it. He threw himself on the pavement, arms outstretched. A bullet hit a foot ahead of him, spattering fragments that injured his hand. He went to the Capital Hospital, where his wound was treated after a long wait. They had many more serious cases. Doctors in some hospitals operated for seventy-two hours without halt. Many deaths resulted when blood supplies ran out. "Why did you go to Tiananmen?" the man was asked. "I had to tell them," he said. "I had to talk to them and tell them that we were the people." No one who saw or talked to the people of Beijing can believe that they will easily swallow the government line that Tiananmen did not happen, that only "bad men" and "bandits" burned the trucks and held back the troops. To the people of Beijing it is apparent that the mantle of heaven, A FORTNIGHT LATER 167

which slipped from the death grasp of Mao Zedong to the agile hands of Deng Xiaoping, has slipped once again. Deng has lost it and no one yet has retrieved it. And what of the future? I have heard estimates of six months to two years before there is another shuffle of the deck. That depends on the lives of elderly men, particularly the life of Deng Xiaoping. His mind, I have been told, is clear, if not as nimble as it was. His body has deteriorated this last year. The process is irreversible. Hopefully he will not sink into the vegetative state in which Mao spent his last years, totally manipulated by unscrupulous handlers. Already it is said that Deng is much in the control of a small band of individuals. He spends little time on affairs of state (is not strong enough or lacks the will), accepts the evaluations of others, has little firsthand knowledge of conditions, is totally unaware of the real­ ity of Tiananmen, quite possibly believes the vapid propaganda of the army and the Party. Deng's speech of June 9 to the military commanders, congratulat­ ing them on their actions of June 4, was read abroad as bristling with anger and the determination to use any means necessary to regain con­ trol of the "counterrevolutionary" situation. So Deng said, but the full text of the speech discloses a baffled, almost bewildered old man, painfully clutching at his vision of a new, open, and reformed China, a China that will go forward to economic vigor and meet his goals for the year 2050. It is apologetic in tone. Deng is obviously stunned at the resistance the people put up to the PLA crackdown. There is a plaintive vein of incomprehension run­ ning through his remarks, as though he cannot really believe it all happened, that his dreams and ambitions have been shattered in a sin­ gle tragic night. There is no way that Deng's condition will take a turn for the better. The trend is down and it will not change. Yang Shangkun has acquired enormous influence with Deng, with the army, and with the elders. But although more vigorous than Deng, he is only two years his junior. He too has entered a zone in which physical and mental frailty may readily make their appearance. And he is not without ene­ mies. He did not receive a unanimous vote in his election to the Mili­ tary Commission. None of my Chinese friends believes Li Peng has a constituency. They see him as an instrument, not a player. They do not expect his power to grow. The new Party Secretary, Jiang Zemin, has no wide political base. He has only Shanghai behind him, and even there he is not too popular. This is hardly an accident. When Mao had to pick a 168 CoNTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES successor after the death of Zhou Enlai and the second fall of Deng Xiaoping, he picked Hua Guofeng, a political unknown whom he had met in his native Hunan. He didn't want a man of power. Deng's choice of Jiang was based on the same kind of political calculation. With Li and Jiang in place Deng feels no political threat. It is a situation pleasing to the army. The military has demon­ strated to Deng that without it he cannot retain power. The com­ manders have demonstrated to themselves that they are more powerful than Deng or the Party. On the next round they expect to pick their man for the top office. Not necessarily an army man, but one who can head a tightly run military state. Something, say, like South Korea. With a doctrine that has already been evolved by the reactionaries, a doctrine called authoritarianism (which is just what it says, a gloss of Nazism and ), they think they can do very well. Who needs democracy? The fast-moving Asian "tigers" have done very well without democracy. China, they think, is too big, too incho­ ate to function under such a system. With authoritarianism, some peasant graft, and the guns of the armored divisions China should do very well. As I have been writing these lines I have talked to some of my Chinese friends. What is there to hope for? They shake their heads in despair. "This is only the beginning," they say. They think of it in terms of the unthinkable: the Cultural Revolution in reruns, China sinking back into the sloth of warlordism, fascism. I fear they are right. I confess I was one who thought the stu­ dents in Tiananmen could change the minds of the stubborn men who run the country. Yes, even that of Deng Xiaoping. I was as naive as that young man from Nankai whom I met in the square. I thought he and his comrades were the wave of the future. Like so many Americans, I was very proud of the youngsters, so brave, so idealistic. Now I know that China is still ruled by her three great symbols: the Yellow River, the Great Wall, and the Dragon. The Yellow River is believed to have given birth to Chinese civilization thousands of years ago in its rich alluvial soil and to have established China as a river country, not an ocean country. She still lives by the Yellow River waters, not the blue of ocean seas, turning inward instead of outward, as did the men of the Renaissance and the privateers of Queen Elizabeth. Not yet have the people and their rulers begun to see that the Great Wall keeps the people in, as well as invaders out; that the walls and courtyards in which they contain themselves, the great magenta walls that surround the Forbidden City and A FORTNIGHT LATER 169

Zhongnanhai, confine minds as well as bodies. And the Dragon is still supreme, China's benevolent dragon that protects the nation, protects the throne, protects the dynasties, protects the people-so long as they do not threaten its order. Now I know that these myths still hold China under their sway. The TV documentary, Yellow River Elegy, which challenged them, has not tom China away from her ancient foundations. "If they had only discussed these ideas," said the director of the documentary the night before the guns roared at Tiananmen, "they would not be in this situation." He was right, but now, I am afraid, it will be years before the bright dreams of the Elegy will gleam through the dark clouds of the Dragon, break down the barrier of the Great Wall, and send China soaring away from the silt of the Yellow River into the clean blue waters of the sea and the endless precincts of space.

9. HOW THE HARDLINERS WON*

Nicholas D. Kristof

Hu Yaobang always tried to do things his own way, from the day at age 14 when he ran away from home to join the Communists to the time in 1986 when, as Party leader, he suggested that maybe it was time for Deng Xiaoping to retire. This year, after he had his heart attack-embarrassingly, 40 minutes into a Politburo meeting-the doctor ordered him to spend a week in bed. But Hu, 74, was impa­ tient; in particular, he was tired of bedpans. In the early morning of Aprill5, on the seventh day after the heart attack, Hu raised his lithe, 5 foot, 3 inch frame from the bed and stepped toward the bathroom. It was too much for him. Hu Yaobang suffered a seizure, collapsed and died. Hu's seizure was a prelude to China's. His death triggered weeks of massive protests, giddy days last April and May when throngs of more than a million filled the streets of Beijing, criticizing the growing corruption, and in general demanding more of the democracy that Hu had come to symbolize. And then, after seven exhilarating weeks, it all came to a sudden end. In the early hours of June 4, as the world watched in horror, the tanks of the People's Liberation Army rolled toward Tiananmen Square and troops fired on the crowds, killing hun­ dreds and wounding thousands. Behind this highly public drama lay another one, less visual and far less understood, yet just as significant. It was enacted not on the streets but in Zhongnanhai-the park-like compound a few hundred yards from Tiananmen where most of China's top leaders have their villas-and in Deng Xiaoping's own large estate a mile north of there. This was the battle within the leadership, a struggle among ambitious men and their competing visions of China. The echoes of this struggle still reverberate through the country, and China's future will depend on how it is resolved. The following account is pieced together from conversations with dozens of people, including many Party officials, as well as a reading of various documents-reports and speeches-some released to the pub­ lic, others "internal" and closely held. In many places in the narra-

• Reprinted by permission of New York Times, Inc., dated November 14, 1989, from The New York Times Magazine, November 12, 1989. (171) 172 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES tive, I have avoided attribution, sometimes because those involved spoke only on condition their names not be used, sometimes because use of their names would put them and their families in jeopardy. The central figure in the tragedy is Zhao Ziyang, who in 1987 succeeded Hu Yaobang as General Secretary of the Communist Party. A wily and sometimes ebullient politician with a razor-sharp mind, Zhao was expected to become Deng's successor as paramount leader. More than any other official, Zhao was identified with Deng's eco­ nomic "opening" of the country; he surrounded himself with some of the best and brightest of the country's young scholars who, based in an archipelago of think tanks around Beijing, submitted revolutionary proposals for economic and political change. For many young intel­ lectuals, this was China's Camelot. By the summer of 1988, however, their patron's job was in jeop­ ardy. Inflation and corruption were on the rise, and the people were grumbling. Many older Party officials regarded Zhao as too impa­ tient; they were appalled when he flirted with heretical notions such as freeing prices and selling off state-owned companies to private share­ holders. They began to criticize Zhao, in what they viewed as an at­ tempt to save the revolution and the economy. Early this year, some of Deng's most influential associates, most notably Chen Yun, the 84- year-old genius of central planning, formally advised that Zhao, 69 at the time, be dismissed. Such is Zhao's situation when his predecessor, Hu Yaobang, col­ lapses in Beijing Hospital and the drama begins.

April18 With the news of Hu Yaobang's death, university students-for whom Hu was a symbol of change-begin hanging posters mourning him and criticizing the Party leadership. In the predawn hours, sev­ eral thousand students march to Tiananmen; within a few days, thousands of them are effectively occupying the square and threaten­ ing to force their way inside Zhongnanhai. During this first week, I happen to have lunches on three occa­ sions with lieutenants or supporters of Zhao. The ruling faction in Beijing will later claim that Zhao was behind the protests from the beginning, plotting with the students with an eye toward seizing power, but this week none of the aides think much of the students; indeed, they are openly dismissive. "It's nothing," one says derisively. "It'll be over soon." They regard the protests as just another head­ ache for their boss, another threat to his already precarious position. How THE HARDLINERS WON 173

At the beginning, the Zhao faction is as befuddled by the students as anyone else. Meanwhile, just to the east of Tiananmen Square, on Justice Street, officials of the Beijing People's Government are appalled at the students' conduct. Beijing Mayor Chen Xitong and local Party leader have their staffs prepare reports focusing on the most outra­ geous of the students' slogans-those calling for the ouster of Deng Xiaoping. On April 23, Zhao Ziyang embarks on a previously scheduled visit to Pyongyang, North Korea, leaving hardline officials in charge of policy.

Apri124 The Politburo Standing Committee-now presided over by Prime Minister Li Peng, Zhao's primary rival-meets to discuss the unrest, and resolves that the Party must act firmly in the face of the demonstrations. Early the next morning, two Mercedes Benz limousines pull out of Zhongnanhai, wind their way north and then-ignoring a "Do Not Enter" sign-pull into a narrow alley just south of Dianmen Gate. A team of elite guards admit Li Peng, 60, and 82-year-old President Yang Shangkun through a steel gate and into the residence of Deng Xiaoping, 84, China's senior leader. They find Deng in a grim mood, outraged by the ongoing protests and deeply alarmed at the prospect of further unrest. He comments that other socialist countries that had been tolerant of unrest-he cites the example of Poland-had experienced economic collapse; he also hails the authorities in the Soviet Republic of Georgia for their firm measures against dissent. (At least 19 protesters had been killed by troops in a recent incident there.) Finally, Deng tells his two colleagues that Army troops must enter the city and crush any further demonstrations. "We do not fear spilling blood," declares Deng, "and we do not fear the international reaction." A stenographer takes down his words, and they are later turned into a document that is read to other Party officials. On Deng's orders, a hardline editorial is prepared for the People's Daily, condemning the student unrest and calling for a crackdown. When a draft is taken to Deng's home, the leader strikes out each use of xuechao ("student movement") and replaces it with dongluan ("tur­ moil," the same pejorative used to describe the Cultural Revolution). A copy of the editorial is transmitted to Pyongyang, and Zhao cables 174 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES back his approval-a cable his rivals will be quick to produce when the Party leader later tries to repudiate the editorial.

April26 The students are planning a major demonstration for tomorrow. Though Deng has issued his orders, senior leaders spend much of the day negotiating frantically on how to carry them out while avoiding violence. Meanwhile, troops are brought into Beijing and given orders to use tear gas and force if necessary to suppress the demonstration. The chief lobbyist for restraint is Yan Mingfu, 58, a top official in the central Party apparatus and the son of a prominent aide to Zhou Enlai. Fluent in Russian, Y an had translated for Deng during the early 1960's, and their long friendship gives him extra maneuvering room. No one dares countermand Deng's explicit instructions, but Y an argues that the regime must somehow avoid getting blood on its hands, that bloodshed would only further discredit it. He and other officials seek to devise a way to implement Deng's instructions while avoiding a confrontation. Finally, late in the evening, a decision is made by Qiao Shi, the head of the security forces and one of five men on the all-powerful Politburo Standing Committee. The troops will be deployed, as Deng had ordered, but they will follow a strategy of non-violence. Soldiers are to block the roads, and use whatever persuasive techniques they can to calm the students; but they are not to use their guns or clubs. For a regime struggling to short-circuit a growing mass move­ ment, this proves to be a miscalculation.

April27 Word quickly spreads on the campuses that troops are in the area, armed with clubs and tear gas. When students emerge from the main gate of Beijing University just before 9 A.M., chanting demo­ cratic slogans and waving banners condemning The People's Daily edi­ torial, few expect to reach Tiananmen Square. Some have written their wills, expecting to be clubbed to death in the streets. And yet a miracle comes to pass: When the students reach the first line of policemen and troops, the men do not use their clubs. The delighted crowd easily pushes through the lines, and soon the streets are full of hundreds of thousands of workers and students cheering for democracy. It is a turning point: April 27 will come to be regarded by many How THE HARDLINERS WON 175

intellectuals as perhaps the most triumphant day of protest in China this century. But inside Zhongnanhai, the power struggles have grown more intense. Upon his return from North Korea on May 1, Zhao huddles with his closest aide, , to discuss the situation. Bao, 57, a lean man who doubles as a Central Committee member and secretary to the Politburo, points out that the published version of The People's Daily editorial differs slightly from the one transmitted to Korea. This lets Zhao disavow the increasingly hated editorial. In a roundabout challenge to Deng, Zhao suggests to a number of officials that the party retract the editorial. May4 Zhao has begun to align himself more and more with the stu­ dents. In part, this is a genuine reflection of his views, but it is also a tactical move. Slipping within the Party, Zhao sees a chance to shore up his position by turning himself into a populist. On this day, he carries this line a step further in a conciliatory speech on national television. "The just demands of the students must be met," he declares, adding that the problems should be solved in a democratic and legal way. In contrast to The People's Daily editorial, Zhao discounts the "threat" posed by the students. "They are by no means opposed to our fundamental system," he says of the protesters. "Rather, they are asking us to correct mistakes in our work." The speech, drafted by Bao Tong, marks the beginning of the open split between Zhao and Deng. To cement the image of Zhao as the great conciliator, his aide Bao has the national television networks broadcast the speech this evening and repeat it over the next three days. And he has The People's Daily run the text on the front page and include a roundup of positive responses from the public. During the week, the demonstrations subside, but Chinese jour­ nalists begin to be more aggressive in demanding freedom of the press. For Zhao, the demands represent a chance to position himself as the man of the future. On May 6, he summons two senior Party officials in charge of propaganda, Hu Qili and Rui Xingwen. "There is no big risk in open­ ing up a bit by reporting the demonstrations and increasing the open­ ness of news," Zhao tells them, according to an account later circulated by the Government. The same day, Hu Qili meets with the publishers of China's eight largest newspapers and tells them they can ease up their control. Journalists rush to oblige Zhao, describing what 176 CoNTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES is happening in the streets. The coverage lends new impetus to the democracy movement.

MayS The bosses of Beijing, Li Ximing and Chen Xitong, are outraged. The more the Party opens up, the worse they look; in the streets they are increasingly portrayed as villains. The two officials have tried to force Zhao to call meetings so they can confront him with his diver­ gence from the Party line as expressed in The People's Daily editorial. Zhao resists; but finally, today, he calls a meeting. It is a stormy and inconclusive session. The Beijing Party faction bitterly criticizes the Party leader's May 4 speech, accusing Zhao of betraying the Party. "Who has betrayed you?" Zhao retorts, according to a Govern­ ment report. "It was only during the Cultural Revolution that people were betrayed . . . If I made incorrect remarks, I'll bear the responsibility."

May 11 The paralysis in the leadership, and the public groundswell for change, are combining to help Zhao. According to some sources, Zhao is at his finest when the Politburo gathers in an expanded meet­ ing in Zhongnanhai. In addition to the regular Politburo members, other prominent officials fill the chairs around the table. But Deng Xiaoping does not attend, and gives Zhao an edge; in Deng's absence, it is he who holds the position of authority. It is a tense time; Soviet leader Mikhail S. Gorbachev is due to arrive in a few days for the first Sino-Soviet summit in 30 years, and yet the student movement threatens further unrest. Zhao seeks a man­ date for his conciliatory approach, urging that the leadership move toward some of the principles of the democracy movement-particu­ larly an end to corruption and a more open government. He submits a letter welcoming an investigation of his two eldest sons, who are known to be using their connections to make immense sums of money. This is one of Zhao's key efforts to tum himself from Party boss to populist, and at first it seems to work. In the absence of any organized opposition, the meeting ends with a half-hearted endorsement of Zhao's approach. Openness is in the air, and Zhao rushes to make clear how much has changed. Zhao's aide Bao Tong drafts an article praising human How THE HARDLINERS WON 177

rights and calling for a system of balance of powers, and he rushes it to The People's Daily. It appears as the lead story on May 12. That afternoon, I drop by to see Yan Jiaqi, a prominent political scientist who will later lead the exiled democracy movement, and find him giddy with enthusiasm. "This is the first time that the press has ever used 'human rights' in a favorable context," he says, happily clutching the newspaper. Around the same time I have lunch with one of Zhao's aides, one of the brilliant young men trying to remold China, and he is more hopeful than he has been in months. "There is hope that Zhao can stay in control and consolidate his position," he says. "The worst stage ofthe fire appears to be over, but there is still danger." The key, he says, is that Zhao's conciliatory approach has to be proven effec­ tive: The students will have to respond by ending their occupation of Tiananmen and returning to campus. But this is not what happens. Instead, the protests escalate, and the students thereby doom their protector.

May 13 The students begin a hunger strike on Tiananmen Square, and sympathetic citizens surge onto the streets to show support, literally taking over the center of the capital. During Gorbachev's visit, there is chaos. The embarrassed Chi­ nese Government finds itself constantly rearranging its plans to avoid interruption by the students. During this time, Yan Mingfu, the party's chief negotiator, pleads with the students to go home, warning in a private meeting that, if they press too far, they could well destroy those leaders who sympa­ thize with them. The students listen politely but refuse to compro­ mise; these are matters of principle, they say. Though Zhao's rivals view the demonstrators as pawns of the Party leader, the students' action at this point undermines their supposed sponsor. In the struggle within the leadership, the turmoil creates new un­ certainties. Zhao, no doubt realizing that hardliners will try to seize on the growing chaos to force his retirement, takes the offensive. On May 16, during his televised meeting with Gorbachev, Zhao Ziyang lunges for power. "Our whole Party cannot do without Comrade Deng Xiaoping's helmsmanship on important issues," Zhao tells Gorbachev and the watching Chinese people. "We formally adopted a decision at the first plenary session of the 13th Party Congress that on important ques- 178 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

tions we still need him as the helmsman. The decision has never been released until today, but it is a very important decision." To outsiders, this seems a defense of the senior leader. It is the opposite. Many Chinese immediately understand that Zhao is blam­ ing his long-time patron for the stalemate over the students. Zhao is saying that he would like to meet the student demands, but that Deng, "the helmsman," will not allow it.

May 17 As the streets overflow with protesters and the Government loses control of the capital, the Politburo Standing Committee is summoned to the home of a furious Deng Xiaoping. It is there, according to many Chinese officials, at a stormy meet­ ing in the home of his former patron, that Zhao pleads for a program of conciliation with the students. It is the moment of confrontation, but Deng and his prestige prevail. Zhao is a minority of one-with Prime Minister Li Peng and the planning czar Yao Yilin strongly op­ posed, the security chief Qiao Shi emphasizing the need for order and the propaganda boss Hu Qili, though sympathetic to Zhao, still un­ willing to disagree openly with Deng. Although no formal decision is taken, it is at this meeting that China is set firmly on the course to­ ward June 4. Having lost the vote, Zhao does not give up. His aides lobby furi­ ously, sensing that Qiao Shi and Hu Qili can be persuaded to come around. Meanwhile, to put further pressure on the Party, Zhao sub­ mits his resignation. "My way of thinking is not in accord with your way of thinking," Zhao writes Deng. Zhao knows that the announcement of his resigna­ tion might well bring further protests, and gambles that the Politburo will prefer to adopt his proposals than risk being blamed for ousting him. But Deng refuses to accept the resignation, and a day later Zhao revokes the offer. Instead, Zhao goes on sick leave, announcing that because of some unspecified ailment he will henceforth not participate in Party business. Meanwhile, he tries to take his case to the people, leaking word of the May 17 Politburo session (reportedly, through Bao Tong). A new wave of public anger and indignation at the leader­ ship follows-and with it, for the first time, a certain amount of sym­ pathy for Zhao. Around this time, a Mercedes Benz limousine with an A01 li­ cense plate and darkened windows pulls out of Zhongnanhai. The car How THE HARDLINERS WON 179

slowly circles Tiananmen Square several times, so the passenger can see for himself the enormous demonstrations. In the car is Zhao Ziyang. All week, he has been telling aides and other officials he wants to visit the demonstrators-which would ad­ vance his conciliatory posture one step further. But when he proposes this idea to his colleagues, Li Peng vetoes it as too radical a move. So Zhao drives around the square, observing events-if only from behind the darkened windows. Meanwhile, after the epochal May 17 meeting, Deng and his eld­ erly colleagues, together with Li Peng and the conservative faction in the Politburo, decide to call troops into the capital and declare martial law. One aim, of course, is to re-establish order and win the streets back from the demonstrators. But there is another reason, perhaps a more important one: Deng and his colleagues, believing they have been betrayed by Zhao, fear the Party leader might somehow mount a coup d'etat. They intend the troops to guard key government installa­ tions and ministries from a possible attack. Amid this atmosphere of fear and mutual suspicion, Party offi­ cials hold hurried negotiations, debating how exactly to summon the troops. Zhao sends for Yan Mingfu. The Party leader asks him to visit President Yang Shangkun where, pretending he is acting on his own initiative, Yan is to urge the President not to call in the Army. Yan, tom between conflicting loyalties, goes to see the President. "Zhao Ziyang has asked me to come to you and urge that the Army not be summoned to Beijing," he tells Yang, and adds, according to a well-placed Party official, "I was supposed to say it was my own idea, not his." President Yang is angry at Y an for being a lackey of Zhao, and Zhao is furious at Yan's betrayal. Word spreads that General Xu, Commander of the 38th Army, has refused to move his troops into the capital. The consternation at Zhongnanhai grows. "I moved troops against the people once"--on April27-General Xu reportedly says, "I'm not going to do it again." Rather than command his troops, General Xu reports to a local hospital. His disobedience is doubly worrying because he is the son of one of China's most senior military figures, Xu Haideng. If he cannot be trusted, who can be?

May 19 In Tiananmen Square, the hunger strikers have been fasting for nearly a week, and many of them have begun to drift in and out of consciousness. Each time a student faints, an ambulance races 180 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

through the crowd along a special lane that is kept open for the purpose. Within Zhongnanhai, the almost constant sirens exacerbate the sense of crisis. Zhao repeatedly asks permission to go out and show sympathy for the hunger strikers, but other Politburo members refuse the request. Finally, early this morning, Zhao announces he is going to the square anyway. In an effort to show Party unity, an appalled Li Peng trails behind as Zhao leads a small retinue into the square. "We have come too late," Zhao tells the students, as tears well in his eyes. Deeply disturbed by what he regards as the chaos growing around him, Li Peng convenes the Politburo Standing Committee later in the day to endorse the declaration of martial law. Li also arranges for a televised mass meeting that evening in the Army-owned . Zhao, who apparently led his colleagues to believe he would preside, at the last minute refuses to attend. "At least sit at the rostrum to show unity," President Yang re­ portedly pleads. "You don't even have to say anything." But Zhao insists he cannot go along with the crackdown, and that in any case he is ill. Instead, Qiao Shi presides and Li Peng gives the main speech. Then President Yang makes an impromptu announcement ordering troops into the capital. Though the plan had been not to impose mar­ tial law until the early hours of , troops are already visible on the streets. Martial law is formally imposed on May 20. But when the bulk of the troops arrive at the outskirts of the capital, citizens rush from their homes to block their way, some people lay down in the street in front of the military trucks. Hundreds of thousands of protesters, organized in groups representing factories and offices and even the Foreign Ministry, parade through the center of the city. With the troops stymied, it seems for a few days that Zhao might win after all. But how can he convert this apparent victory in the streets to a political triumph within the Party? Zhao quickly turns to the mechanism of the National People's Congress to revoke martial law and perhaps even impeach Li Peng. Almost a third of the 158 members of the Congress's Standing Com­ mittee agree to hold a special session (an entirely legal process, but one that eventually lands an organizer, Cao Siyuan, in prison). Zhao then surreptitiously sends a message to the head of the Congress, , who is visiting the United States, to rush home. When Li Peng finds out about the message shortly thereafter, he How THE HARDLINERS WON 181

hurriedly convenes a Politburo Standing Committee meeting, which sends an equally urgent cable to Wan Li ordering him to remain in the United States. Having received both cables, and with the situation in Beijing appearing increasingly chaotic, Wan has no idea what to do.

May23 Finally, after meeting President Bush in Washington, Wan Li cuts his trip short, announcing that because of illness he is returning to China. Bao Tong tries to have someone meet his plane in Shanghai, but the other faction is a step ahead. As soon as the plane touches down, a limousine sent by Shanghai boss Jiang Zemin rolls onto the tarmac, collects Wan and bundles him off to a guest house where the situation is explained to him. After some discussion, Wan Li agrees to back his old friend Deng Xiaoping and support martial law. After this episode, Bao Tong notices he is being followed, and his telephone tapped. A few days later, he is arrested. Meanwhile, the bodyguards assigned to his boss, Zhao Ziyang, are changed, and the nine new guards respond not to his commands but to the Politburo's. Zhao's secretary is dismissed, and is spared arrest only because the Politburo thinks well of his family. Around this time, there are frequent reports that Deng Xiaoping is traveling to Wuhan and other cities to meet with military leaders and ask for their support. But Chinese officials with knowledge of Deng's movements say this never happened. Deng and his colleagues were already consolidating their hold over the Party and the military, and as it became clear that Zhao had lost the battle, people streamed to the winning side. Provincial leaders are summoned to Beijing for indoctrination. They are housed in special guest houses and forbidden to bring more than one aide; all their movements are controlled to prevent contact with the Zhao forces. Some complain that they are treated as virtual prisoners. The conservative faction-particularly Li Peng, Yao Yilin, Li Ximing and Chen Xitong-now has the edge, and the latter two Bei­ jing officials are expecting promotion. But on May 31, Deng meets with Li Peng and Yao Yilin, and tells them the Party needs fresh faces. Deng has already consulted with his octogenarian colleagues, Chen Y un and Li Xiannian, and decided to choose Jiang Zemin to replace Zhao. "I hope everyone will regard Jiang Zemin as the core of the Party and unite together," Deng tells Li Peng and Yao Yilin, according to 182 CONTEMPORARY ASIAN STUDIES SERIES the confidential text of his remarks. "Please don't look down on each other and waste energy fighting among yourselves."

June 3

Thousands of troops have infiltrated into the capital, and people are growing accustomed to them--even in the Tiananmen Square area. The demonstration itself has lost much of its impetus, with many students from outside the capital returning to their homes. Fewer than 10,000-probably considerably fewer-are still living in the square. During the early hours of this Saturday morning, thousands of soldiers are sent into Beijing from the east, probably to bolster the show of force in the capital and gradually restore order. At this hour, the streets are empty of civilians, and it seems likely the plan was for the troops to enter the city quietly, without attracting attention. But shortly before midnight, three miles west of Tiananmen, a speeding police van had swerved out of control, killing three bicyclists. An angry crowd quickly gathered, and many of the suspicious people insisted the incident was intentional. Some also declared that since the van was racing toward Tiananmen Square, the police must be prepar­ ing to evict the demonstrators. The news has raced around Beijing, and, for the first time in a week, people swarm out of their houses to occupy the streets. The angry, defiant crowds soon encounter the exhausted soldiers, who are just finishing their forced march into the city, confirming the public impression that the authorities are scheming to attack the students. The indignant citizens search all vehicles passing by on the roads, and beat up some of the soldiers. The troops are unarmed, probably to insure safety during the trip; their gear and weapons are transported separately in buses taking an­ other route. Under normal conditions, these buses would never have been stopped, but after the accident, they are halted and searched, and machine guns are found. The discovery further inflames the crowds, and angry citizens confiscate the weapons.

June4

News that troops have been beaten, and guns stolen, alarms the conservative officials now holding the reins of power. Though the cap­ ital has been growing steadily calmer during the last week, the leaders decide they have to act decisively. And so Deng and his colleagues How THE HARDLINERS WON 183 order the Army to take control of the city, using whatever force is required. What happens before dawn on this Sunday has been much writ­ ten about, and much confused. Based on my observations in the streets, neither the official account nor many of the foreign versions are quite correct. There is no massacre in Tiananmen Square, for example, although there is plenty of killing elsewhere. Troops frequently fire at crowds who are no threat to them, and at times aim directly at medi­ cal personnel and ambulances. Some of those who are shot have been threatening the troops--for while the students have generally urged nonviolence, many young workers carry firebombs or pipes, and they manage to kill more than a dozen soldiers or policemen. But many other civilians are casually slaughtered for no apparent reason. An acquaintance of mine, the only son of a Party member who has always believed in the Government, is riding his bicycle to work in northeast Beijing that morning when a detachment of soldiers sees him. They shoot him in the back, killing him. He becomes simply another statistic in the tragedy of 20th-century China. Armed force enabled Deng and his colleagues to regain control over the capital, and during the months since, the leadership has slowly been consolidating its authority and purging those who are judged to have failed the test. Zhao Ziyang was stripped of all his offices and has vanished into a walled villa at No. 6 Fuqiang Alley, where he is said to spend much of his time reading. Bao Tong remains in prison. Yet the killings of early June did not resolve the power struggles, they intensified them. There still is no consensus in the leadership about how China should be managed politically or economically. The leaders continue to fight among themselves about what economic poli­ cies to endorse, and whom to promote or purge. On the surface, a degree of normalcy is returning to China, and martial law has been relaxed in Beijing. But there remain deep and unresolved tensions that have only been exacerbated by the bloodshed. Many Chinese compare the present period to the jockeying for power at the end of the Maoist era in 1976, and they note that the Maoist political hierarchy and economic system collapsed only two years after Mao died. When Deng and his octogenarian colleagues follow Mao, the same thing may well happen. At that time, when change finally comes, it is likely to be all the more rapid, all the more sweeping, for having been repressed in 1989. Many of my Communist friends used to believe in the system. Now 184 CoNTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES they are no longer Communists but simply Party members who believe neither in the Party nor in Communism. Zhao could well re-emerge-now 70, he is still four years younger than Deng was on his triumphal return to power in 1978-but the change will not depend on him; for throughout the Party and nation there is a deep longing for change, a deep sadness about what has hap­ pened. Today, many Chinese remember the words of the great writer early in this century: "Lies written in ink cannot obscure a truth written in blood." 10. THE FALL OF ZHAO ZIYANG*

John Fincher

Through television millions of people around the world watched the Chinese army's bloody suppression of pro-democracy demonstra­ tors in and around Beijing's Tiananmen Square on the night of June 3- 4, 1989. For its victims and witnesses, the liberating experience of people power was no less a surprise than the carnage that followed. Days of hopeful fraternization between the people and the "people's army" led only to a night of slaughter. If the event may be put into an American rather than an East Asian context, it was as if the Wood­ stock rock festival had been followed directly by the mass suicide at Jonestown, and both were telecast back-to-back. The intimacy of the final encounters between unarmed students and tanks manned by young soldiers was unnerving. The memory of those hot spring nights in Beijing will have lasting consequences. Ef­ forts to argue that the slaughter was a creation of the foreign media will not wash out the stain. The Big Lie minimizing civilian casualties that was ordered up for television stations exposed all too clearly the survival of a propaganda style befitting the Cultural Revolution's and the "Gang of Four." Within weeks the body counts offered by army spokesmen were invalidated even by Communist party offi­ cials. Accusations against the foreign media had to contend with mil­ of mainlanders who live within reach of Hong Kong and Taiwan television. These viewers have spread Western accounts through ana­ tional population that has grown accustomed to seeing Western news­ casts excerpted on its own stations. This year's demonstrations marked the 70th anniversary of the May 4, 1919, pro-democracy student protests to which the Commu­ nist Party of the People's Republic of China (PRC) traces its legiti­ macy. It is easy to imagine future commemorations of the June 3-4, 1989, incident; so many people were involved that the symbolism of that date is likely to be long-lived. From April to June the movement filled the stage of Chinese politics with autonomous or, as the Chinese term them, "self-governing" organizations of students, factory work­ ers, and professionals. Even the journalists charged with telling the

• Reprinted by permission of Foreign Policy, dated November 2, 1989, from Foreign Policy, no. 76 (Fall, 1989), pp. 3-25. (185) 186 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES government's story played a prominent role as organized petitioners and demonstrators. Party-appointed officials who try to speak as authorities in China's sophisticated and increasingly well-informed society have been compromised irreparably by the crackdown. The regime that or­ dered its troops to fire on its own civilians and then sent its police to harass them in a widening witch-hunt for demonstrators and support­ ers will not be able to suppress information about its actions. Arrests have been numerous and executions have continued, but a surprising number of those on the "most wanted" lists of leading agitators and "hooligans" have escaped through the tightly woven police nets. Sym­ pathetic concern for fugitives has combined with indifference or cor­ ruption to afford ways out of China for determined individuals. The very length of the lists of those sought by the Chinese police may help to build opposition, provided enough of those named actu­ ally survive. Many leaders of Beijing's democracy movement have turned up in Hong Kong and overseas. Their potential influence as refugees is amplified by the support of a worldwide community of Chi­ nese-speaking people that sustains the flow of news and information into China. Since 1977 Chinese policy has been guided by Deng Xiaoping's admonition to "." In 1989 tens of thousands of mainland students overseas disseminated the outside world's picture of events in Tiananmen Square to contacts throughout China. Through direct-dial telephone lines it became possible to subvert the Big Lie on central television with "truth from FAX." The most powerful truths were lamentations over events in Tiananmen Square that were printed in the Communist Party's own Hong Kong newspapers, faxed into China, and photocopied there for posting on walls and telephone poles throughout mainland cities. The spread of rapid access to information has produced local res­ ervoirs of political awareness in the population. People now under­ stand better their own aptitude for creating self-governing organizations when necessity and opportunity coincide, as they did in 1989. Each of half a dozen waves of democratic activism in China since 1976 has directly inspired leaders of the next wave, despite a lack of continuity in leadership. The 1989 movement reached tidal wave proportions because of that reinforcing tendency. Democratic impulses inside China have long been stimulated by news from Eastern Europe as well as from the West and Japan. What might be termed the "Polish syndrome" has haunted conservative party leaders and tantalized other Chinese ever since Solidarity ap- THE FALL OF ZHAO ZIYANG 187

peared on the world scene. But China's own version of "Solidarity" may already have arrived in the networks of political action groups that appeared during the Beijing spring. Warnings against the Polish syndrome from the party Propaganda Department may have served as self-fulfilling prophecies. Chinese sensitivity to changes in the world-wide Communist movement made Hungary another source of anxiety for hardliners. But others saw Hungary as a model. In late 1987, when Zhao Ziyang left his post as Premier of the State Council to become the new Party General Secretary, Party policy reflected his determination to outdo the Hungarians in bold economic reforms and to "break through the pass" with complete price reforms. Interest in outdoing Hungarian economic reformers tended to license interest in following Hungarian political reformers, who want a multiparty system as well as self-gov­ erning mass and professional organizations. Reform of the Chinese media also became a locus for develop­ ments resembling those in Poland or Hungary. The spell of glasnost, or openness, soon began to enchant Chinese citizens. But even before the dramatic reforms in the Soviet Union, proliferation of free-enter­ prise publishing establishments around China was fueling reform. Moreover, media reform was accompanied by steps toward electoral reform. Under then General Secretary Hu Yaobang, China in 1980 introduced contested local elections, the first since the early days of the PRC. By the time of Hu's death on April 15, 1989, the National Peo­ ple's Congress (NPC) was inching its way toward dealing with issues of press freedom and tolerance of nonparty organizations. Meanwhile, more and more radical reformers still to be found in the Party signed human rights petitions for the release of Wei Jingsheng, who was im­ prisoned for circulating "state secrets" as a leader of the late 1978 and 1979 Democracy Wall activists. Reformers also urged freedom in the media to equal that reappearing in the visual and performing arts and in literary and scholarly writing.

THE DEMOCRACY DEMONSTRATORS The death of Hu provided a catalyst for the expression of student demands for improved living conditions and political reform. The offi­ cial response to their marches on Tiananmen Square was hardline crit­ icism in the party's newspaper, the People's Daily, of April 26. But the applause and solicitude of the people of Beijing during the students' April 27 demonstration strengthened their determination to rebuff hardline response to their protests. A new urgency shaped plans an- 188 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES nounced long before to commemorate the May 4, 1919, student dem­ onstrations. Activists decided to exploit the occasion to call for democratization of present-day China. During May, students' requests for dialogue and their ambitions to govern their own organizations became a more direct challenge to the authorities responsible for the tough April 26 response. Calls for the now 85-year-old Deng's long-promised retirement and Premier Li Peng's resignation came to look more and more like interference in China's leadership succession question. The army's intervention of June 3-4 insured that meetings of the NPC's Standing Committee in late June would rubber-stamp the martial law decrees of the Li Peng regime. Consideration of a new liberalizing press law and attention to the succession crisis were now out of the question. Americans have rightly taken heart at the prominence in China's demonstrations of a "Goddess of Democracy" that resembled the Statue of Liberty. Many demonstrators also raised two fingers in a Churchillian "V for Victory" gesture, thanks largely to its association with Philippine "people power." Yet despite fears expressed in May by hardline party elders, the events of 1989 do not represent a revived effort to roll back commu­ nism. The confrontation between Chinese democrats and their op­ pressors is not quite as simple as might be suggested by Reaganite and Thatcherite accounts of the victory of capitalism over communism in or Eastern Europe. It should be remembered that during the hours the young Chinese protestors standing near their statue of liberty were facing death, they were also singing the Internationale. Appeals to Marxist, if not Leninist, traditions of critical self-scrutiny have been an important part of glasnost. In China as elsewhere the Communist Party has long confined the tradition of self-criticism to semi-private confessions of a quasi-religious character. But as the task of criticizing the Party from within has grown more open, it has brought public notoriety to righteous individuals who are seen as vir­ tually courting expulsion from the Party. What China's elderly hardliners call the threat of is actually closer to a developing tradition of "peelback." With their signs and T -shirts of welcome, China's democratic ac­ tivists displayed their enthusiasm for glasnost as Soviet President Mikhail Gorbachev's May 15-18 visit approached. Gorbachev's re­ sponse to the student welcome was measured, but he increased his popularity with students simply by showing up. Whatever he may have intended, Gorbachev found himself cast in an important role in the long drama of leadership succession in China. A similar situation THE FALL OF ZHAO ZIYANG 189

had greeted Taiwan's minister of finance, Shirley Kuo, who made an unprecedented trip to Beijing for the May 4 meeting of the Asian De­ velopment Bank as leader of a 12-member delegation of officials. To­ gether the Soviet and Taiwanese visits gave then Party General Secretary Zhao an opportunity to portray himself as China's counter­ part to Gorbachev in domestic reforms and as the mainland's counter­ part to Taiwan's Nationalist party leader and president, Lee Teng-hui, in a possible "Chinese common market" program pointed toward their countries' eventual reunification. In both domestic and foreign matters Zhao's response to Gorbachev's presence made him look more and more like the natural successor to Deng as China's paramount leader. Moreover, Gorbachev refused to distance himself from Zhao while having only begun his still very correct relationship with Deng and, for that mat­ ter, with Li Peng and President Yang Shangkun. Most Western and some Chinese observers have incorrectly seen Zhao and his kind of in China as in a state of steady decline during 1987 and 1988. Thus his visit with the student hunger strikers in Tiananmen Square just before Li Peng's announcement of martial law the night of May 19 was viewed as the dramatic end to the slow frustration of his reform efforts. Such interpreters are then forced to consider a surprise the appointment of the relatively reformist Mayor of Shanghai, Jiang Zemin, as Zhao's successor as General Secretary. The more plausible and simpler explanation is that Zhao's campaign to succeed Deng when he retires--ifhe retires-and Zhao's campaign for reform had been proceeding generally successfully up to the eve of the visits by Kuo and Gorbachev, which Zhao meant to use to further both causes. The near success of Zhao's own leadership campaign over the past two years is now confirmed by the appointment not only of the Mayor of Shanghai as his replacement but also of the Mayor of , , to the Standing Committee of the Politburo. Although brought about by Zhao's dismissal, the appointment of mayors from two of China's larger, internationally important cities to the Standing Committee of the Politburo is an acknowledgement of Zhao's appreciation that China's present challenges and future pros­ pects lie mostly with urban centers. Zhao is the most prominent of China's recent leaders to have rejected the mythic power of "peasant China" as the vanguard of the revolution to which veterans of the 1934-35 Long March or their proteges on the Politburo cling even now. It is an inventiveness that makes Zhao appear, like Gorbachev, all the more a practitioner of a new kind of Communist Party politics. Theirs is a presidential style that depends upon a wide repertoire of 190 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES new initiatives in domestic affairs. Both leaders have frequently sur­ prised followers and rivals alike by publicly turning onto new avenues when temporarily slowed by some obstacle. And unlike the politics of their Leninist predecessors-including those in the Maoist mode­ theirs is a politics that exploits international conditions that are favorable to nonmilitary initiatives. Both Zhao and Oorbachev might thus be considered their countries' first genuine postwar leaders. Their approaches reflect the goal of rendering changes in domestic and international conditions that depend upon making a sustained transi­ tion from preparations for war to preparations for peace. Both men have struggled with agricultural stagnation in their countries, underproduction due in China's case largely to failures of Mao's militaristic utopian system, and in the Soviet case partly to the failures of another somewhat utopian venture, the virgin land projects imposed by . In the late and early 1980s Zhao helped Deng reform agriculture and enrich the life of China's rural population, primarily by supporting family farms instead of the commune system. With rural reform well in hand, since about 1984 he has concentrated on the transformation of urban China, en­ couraging private or collectively funded rather than state owned and subsidized enterprises. Zhao stood at the forefront of Chinese who realize that a decade of 10 percent annual economic growth and other structural changes have brought China to where it may soon become another of East Asia's predominantly urban economies and . Zhao's identification with the rapid approach of China's transi­ tion from a rural to an urban society has alarmed many party hardliners. Most of China's old leaders have been slow to realize or unwilling to believe that by 1987 the contribution to the gross national product of China's "rural areas" had become half nonagricultural, and that the population of China's "urban areas" could be estimated as more than 40 per cent of the total population. In addition, they were alarmed that collective or private and household enterprises account for more than 40 per cent of the industrial product that previously was overwhelmingly accounted for by state enterprises. Regrettably, the acceptance of Zhao's agenda came only in the wake of military moves designed both to eliminate him from conten­ tion for the succession to Deng and to put down student demonstra­ tors. It was also accompanied by the enforcement of martial law in a way that could be designed to reverse the urban tendency of Chinese society, as has happened before in Chinese history. Although leadership of the Communist Party now has an urban bias, Deng is the same man who suggested during the recent crisis that THE FALL OF ZHAO ZIYANG 191 it does not matter if the students do not support the party since it can depend on the backing of the army and the peasantry. Something of what Deng meant can be seen from revealing footage from a still un­ finished documentary on the Chinese army filmed by an Australian crew in 1988. Some obliging army propagandists arranged a display of antiriot training classes. While the cameras rolled, several soldiers raced up the steps of an apartment building to capture a mock terror­ ist. Meanwhile, their commander attacked the culprit with abusive shouts: "you intellectual" or "you educated element." Army person­ nel on the spot did not think it necessary to conceal the assumption that students, not "hooligans," were the likely target of army action. That episode, like the Tiananmen incident, shows again how links and alliances between the Party Propaganda Department and army trainers have always been close. The same can be seen from the align­ ments of influential Party figures involved with propaganda such as and who have resisted de-Maoization or who have consistently sought to curb political reforms.

DENG'S BALANCING ACf Militarism is an important factor in the history of militancy in the Chinese Communist Party. But its role has often been obscured by foreign analyses that have exaggerated the significance of regional ten­ sions in the army. As the Tiananmen incident shows, predictions of geographic divisions between army units-like those asserting that the 27th Army brought from to control the capital was the target of some unnamed unit or units-almost always prove mis­ leading. Once again, a predicted revival of warlordism did not take place. The major question in this area of Chinese politics is not regional­ ism in the military but the overall relationship between civilian and military rule. A critical element of China's present situation is the tripartite division of power among the army, Party, and state. Deng's political reforms have focused on separating and balancing Party and state entities in a way that is essential to economic advances. They are meant to reduce the day-to-day role of the Party in the operation of the state and to make it easier to get the state bureaucracy out of the economy. But the separation between Party and state has been stabi­ lized only by balancing the two with the army. And this primitive division of powers has been maintained by Deng's continued interven­ tions in the Party-state balance as chairman of two nearly identical military affairs commissions, one of the Party and one of the state. Even if he is serious about retiring, it is difficult to see how Deng 192 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES can get out of his position in the army without kicking over this three­ legged stool. If China is not on the way to establishing the supremacy of a civilian president as a genuine commander-in-chief of the coun­ try's armed forces, the rare but decisive interventions of Deng, the chairman of China's Military Affairs Commission, in the Party-state balance are hard to describe as anything but disguised military coups. The Party-state constitutional problem is not peculiar to China, as can be seen from Gorbachev's assumption of the posts both of party General Secretary and of President. Deng has differed from his prede­ cessor and other leaders of communist countries by his skill in keeping his hand in military interventions largely unseen-that is, until the events of the Beijing spring. These events showed the degree to which Deng's power ultimately flows from the barrel of a gun, in particular from those guns of army units personally loyal to Yang. From the PRC's founding in 1949 until he was driven from power by Mao in the Cultural Revolution, Deng had been mainly a Party figure despite his unrivaled pre-1949 connections with military leaders. After his return to power in 1973 at Mao's behest, he became primarily a military figure operating in the Party and state at a slight distance from what Chinese leaders have long called, with their fond­ ness for military metaphors, the "front line" of politics. After Mao's death in 1976 Deng not only profited personally from the arrest of Mao's wife and other members of the Gang of Four, but he also engi­ neered the abolition of the office of Party Chairman that Mao had made the highly autocratic center of power in China. Through negoti­ ations with Party colleagues whom he had recalled from their Cultural Revolution banishment, Deng initiated the appointment of Hu Yaobang to his own pre-Cultural Revolution job, General Secretary. Without an all-powerful chairman, the Party could more easily be bal­ anced by the state through the work of his other protege, Zhao, as State Council Premier. With Hu in charge of the Party and Zhao in charge of the State Council, however, Deng also began a program of the gradual retire­ ment of his aging Long March comrades. Deng himself in November 1987 retired from membership in the Party Politburo and its Standing Committee, which he had chaired. He left himself only one major formal title: concurrent Chairman of the Party and State Military Af­ fairs Commissions. From September 1987 to April1989 preparations for Deng's own retirement became the central succession problem. Gorbachev's ex­ pected visit to Beijing assumed a role in these preparations: It prom­ ised to end military efforts in either country to invoke the threat of THE FALL OF ZHAO ZIYANG 193

Sino-Soviet military conflict as a serious policy consideration. Once the possibility of war with either power was formally declared un­ likely, what substance would be left in the job of Chairman of the Party and State Military Affairs Commissions for a man of Deng's historic stature? If Deng were to retire after Gorbachev's visit, the job would seem destined to go to Zhao, who since May 1988 had been Deng's first deputy of the military affairs commission. Yang, Deng's executive deputy in the commission, would presumably retire since both men were already in their mid-eighties. But would Yang abide a direct threat to his military power from Zhao? This threat had its roots in the military's objections to the policies of Hu Yaobang, Zhao's predecessor as General Secretary. Hu's re­ moval in 1987 followed student demonstrations connected with his en­ ergetic pursuit of political reform and democratization. Hu's policies-like Zhao's later-had the effect of promoting civilian au­ thority. They rankled many of the older, conservative army leaders, including Yang. Deng was reliably reported to have let Yang take the credit-or blame-for Hu's dismissal. Some of Yang's continuing restiveness was betrayed in 1987 dur­ ing preparations for a trip to America to discuss military matters. Yang stubbornly insisted that the Chinese Foreign Ministry arrange for his American hosts to accord him treatment normally reserved for a head of state even though he was traveling only as a military deputy chairman. The demand revealed that Yang had been tipped for the presidency, then still held by Li Xiannian. But it may also have re­ vealed his exalted view of his own status as future president, and per­ haps his view of himself as not a lesser man than Deng. After all, Deng received head-of-state treatment from President Jimmy Carter during a U.S. visit in 1979 while formally only Vice Chairman of the Party. Although Li Peng had become heir to Zhao's job as premier of the State Council when Zhao took over the Party, the formal confir­ mation of the promotions of both Yang and Li depended on Zhao's confirmation as Deng's "first deputy" for the military. While a pre­ mier-in-waiting, Li was ready to oblige Yang by insisting that "his" foreign minister get the Americans to give Yang what he wanted. Li's behavior is understandable, as he was probably still smarting from Zhao's agreeing to his promotion from a vice minister's to a minister's position only after a leading Party elder, Chun Yun, argued that he was a likely candidate for on-the-job training as minister. By the time of his confirmation as General Secretary on Novem­ ber 2, 1987, Zhao had already launched policies that induced the Con- 194 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

gress to refuse to reelect to the new 13th Party Central Committee some of the Politburo and Propaganda Department's strongest critics of Zhao's predecessor, Hu. Those critics had campaigned against the "bourgeois liberalization" that accompanied reforms pursued by Hu and Zhao. The 13th Central Committee thus came to be known as "Zhao's Committee." By early 1989, after his election as first deputy of the state Mili­ tary Affairs Commission the previous year, Zhao had kept on track his effort to succeed Deng as army leader. But as heir apparent, Zhao faced complicated problems in dealing with Yang, Li Peng, and ulti­ mately Deng. Considering the history of Deng's disguised military interventions in the Party-state balance he had helped create, the events of late April 1989 can only be described as an attempted military coup by Yang, Li Peng, and other leaders embraced by Deng. The enforcement of mar­ tiallaw on June 3-4 might then be described as a successful military coup. Zhao's approach to the succession problem had been different from that of Hu, who lost his job in January 1987. Whereas Hu was known for privately urging Deng to set an example for others by retir­ ing before it was too late, Zhao chose simply to campaign for Deng's job by assuming his patron's retirement was a foregone conclusion. This approach was rebuffed sharply on April 25, when the first coup attempt against Zhao took place during his visit to North Korea April 24-29. It came in the form of a reaction to the student demon­ strations that followed Hu Yaobang's death on April 15. According to accounts of a sometime associate of Deng, and a senior editor in Beijing, on April 25 Deng used army and police reports brought to him by Yang and Li as the basis for developing the infamous People's Daily editorial of April 26 that attacked student protestors. In order to return safely from Pyongyang and to seek out Deng and key col­ leagues, Zhao had to telegraph some kind of confirmation that he did not oppose the line taken by the three men. The People's Daily was forced to represent the editorial as its own. The editorial provoked an utterly unexpected turnout in Beijing on April 27 of tens of thousands of students and hundreds of thousands of the general population. It became the largest demonstration ever seen to that date in China­ larger even than those organized with army assistance during the Cul­ tural Revolution. Many of those who cheered or marched with the student demon­ strations on April 27 and afterward were destined to be portrayed in official accounts as "hooligans," "thugs," and "criminals." The agents THE FALL OF ZHAO ZIYANG 195

of their expulsion from the body politic would be soldiers summoned to surround and enter Beijing under provisions of Li Peng's martial law edict, which was promulgated with the full backing of Yang and "Chairman Deng," as the propagandists began to style him, using his military title to echo the style of address used for Chairman Mao. Between April 27 and June 4, China saw the kind of reformism behind which Zhao, his Party supporters, and a huge part of the popu­ lation were prepared to take a stand. Upon his return from North Korea on April 30, Zhao moved quickly to qualify the hardline attack on students by accepting the legitimacy of their demands for contin­ ued political reform and democratization and by praising the disci­ plined behavior of demonstrating students and workers on April 27. He was personally responsible for the moderation of official criticism of the students and their supporters. He also sponsored efforts at gov­ ernment dialogue with hunger strikers on the important issue of free­ dom for self-governing student unions, relying on the same Party official (now dismissed) who had been handling reform of relations between the Communist and the democratic parties in the NPC. By making public his intention to accept the students' challenges, Zhao highlighted Li Peng's unwillingness to open a dialogue with them. He also used the world media's anticipation of Gorbachev's visit to introduce a de facto policy of glasnost. Full coverage of the activities of the students, the police, and the army were guaranteed by the presence in Beijing of hundreds of foreign print, radio, and televi­ sion journalists. Just as important, however, was the liberation of Chi­ nese journalists. The moderation of official media attitudes toward either the students or their reform issues depended on Zhao's progress in countering the coup attempt that produced the original April 26 editorial of the People's Daily.

ZHAO'S MOVES

Zhao and his aides shrewdly used his speech at the Asian Devel­ opment Bank meeting on May 4 to promote his agenda for economic change in the Politburo. The speech provoked excited discussion of a more general common market relationship between Hong Kong, Ma­ cau, the mainland, Singapore, Taiwan, and possibly even South Korea. Then, with equal aplomb, Zhao used his May 16 meeting with Gorbachev to appeal publicly to Deng to step down from his formal and informal positions and thereby open the way to a constitutional solution of China's succession problem. He did this by casually re­ vealing that Deng's "retirement" in 1987 from his Politburo position 196 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES was qualified by retention of his right to review the decisions of the Politburo Standing Committee. This revelation of an innermost Party secret was followed by leaks to the foreign press from other sources indicating that Deng had hosted Standing Committee meetings in his own home. By this time Chinese journalists, along with Zhao's aides, were the major source of reliable detailed information for the world media and the student dem­ onstrators. Chinese journalists had long resented the use of their best investigative reporting not in publication, but as intelligence for Party leaders. Then they saw their professional gains from promised re­ forms jeopardized first by the April 26 editorial dictated to the People's Daily and next by the crackdown on the editor of a nonparty paper in Shanghai, the World Economic Herald. Though small in circulation, this paper had become the conscience of professionals in the print me­ dia, a kind of Chinese equivalent of LF. Stone's Weekly. Chinese jour­ nalists showed themselves fully capable of introducing glasnost and using government leaks as some of them had seen done in Washington. Zhao's initiatives in price and enterprise reforms and, above all, in coastal development were part of his campaign to win broad sup­ port in the general population as well as in the army, Party, and state bureaucracy. He sought the approval of those whose lives had been bettered by the agricultural reforms and the open-door policies. And he promised to deal with problems of corruption, inequality, and infla­ tion with more rather than fewer similar reforms. His free-wheeling approach to economic reforms made him an easy target of those in Chinese politics who use corruption as a codeword for capitalist tendencies. Many organizers of the demon­ strations were hurt by inflation and other problems that were easy to blame on the reforms. They initially made Zhao and other officials a target of attacks on corruption. Zhao's response was direct. He consistently argued that most corruption could be eliminated by completing reforms designed to pre­ vent certain officials from buying some commodities at low, state-sub­ sidized prices and then selling them for profit at higher, free-market prices. As for actual corruption, namely nepotism among officials, he proposed stem measures that would have restricted the ability even of his own sons to profit from business activities, as both had been charged with doing. At the same time he profited from Li Peng's vul­ nerability as someone who had achieved high power largely on the strength of connections he inherited as the foster child of the late Pre­ mier Zhou Enlai. THE FALL OF ZHAO ZIYANG 197

The popular open door policy associated with Zhao originated after Mao's death in the relaxation of strict controls on all manner of overseas connections. With the establishment of full diplomatic rela­ tions with the United States in 1979, the policy came to include an emphasis on special zones for foreign trade and investment, the first on the coast just opposite Taiwan and Hong Kong. By the mid-1980s, a succession of cities farther up the coast and some major inland river ports also received greater autonomy in pursuing foreign contacts and exchanges. During Zhao's tenure as General Secretary, the list of municipali­ ties freed from supervision by financial governors was expanded to 12. Many mayors of open door cities struck out on their own to develop trade and investment ties with foreign firms and overseas Chinese. Zhao encouraged this trend by using his new position to widen the scope of the policy by calling for the overall development of coastal China. As a result, in 1988 nearly 300 cities and counties-home to more than 150 million resident Chinese and homeland to perhaps 50 million more overseas-were opened to the possibility of direct inte­ gration into the Pacific and global economies. The policy gave that large region of China best endowed for rapid development a relatively free hand to move without undue fear of central interference. It also blurred increasingly artificial administrative distinctions between ur­ ban and rural areas throughout that region of the country. The most important-and most explosive-societal implication of Zhao's reforms was the pressure they created to open China's cities to greater freedom of movement for the country's vast populace. The increasing market orientation of economic policies translated into greater emphasis on the free large-scale circulation of labor as well as of commodities, technology, economic information, and capital. The acceptance of freer internal circulation-often without the specific en­ dorsement of the state-helped fill the streets of Beijing and other cit­ ies with recent migrants, temporary residents, and casual visitors during the spring of 1989. They, in addition to the city's permanent residents, were active in the huge show of support for student demon­ strators-most of whom also were not native to the city. They have been victims of Li Peng's campaign to enforce martial law through a roundup of so-called hooligans and lawless elements.

CLOSING THE OPEN DOOR As the government has emphasized in the search for democracy movement fugitives, all Chinese have long been required to register as permanent residents either in "rural" or "urban" households and 198 CONTEMPORARY ASIAN STUDIES SERIES

work units in specific localities. Particularly under the commune sys­ tem of 1957-77, all citizens have been subject to a police-administered internal passport system whose provisions are particularly strict in controlling movements from rural to urban areas. It does not take martial law to arrest anyone who has lingered more than a few days away from home without explicit local authorization that proves the bearer is not an "illegal alien" or "hooligan." The effect of Li's policies as premier has been to maintain direct state control over population movements. The effect of Zhao's policies as Party General Secretary has been to encourage local authorities' tolerance of people's freer circulation. Tolerant policies have pre­ vailed as growing food supplies have undermined controls on move­ ments based on the grain-rationing system. An important related restriction has been the failure to expand city housing much beyond that needed for permanent residents. However, in China's increas­ ingly entrepreneurial society this fact has not prevented the develop­ ment of a booming rental market in spare bedspace and rooms. The ultimate physical constraint on the population's free movement has become the inability of the transportation system to cope with increas­ ing flows of people and commodities into, around, and out of cities. The future of mass circulation of China's 1.1 billion people now resides very much in the hands of the army and police. The nature of their daunting task was seen in the discovery by the state statistical services during the 1982 census of just how far behind reality enumer­ ations of China's urban population had fallen thanks to the rigidities of the household registration and internal passport system. The 1982 figure for the urban population of around 20 per cent has been re­ placed with a 1987 figure of more than 40 per cent. Indeed, trends identified in mid-1987 suggested that, depending on what the data indicated as a reasonable definition of "urban" and "rural," China might have passed the rural-to-urban point as early as July 1, 1989. Despite the demographic uncertainties it was clear by 1989 that Chinese society was approaching an important turning point of which Chinese policymakers, though troubled by its social and political consequences, were well aware. Anyone who is familiar with the farmers' markets in the centers of mainland towns and cities or with the edges of its larger cities knows well the changes in Chinese life that have accelerated since 1978, and particularly since 1987. The growing intermingling of rural and urban folk is also apparent to anyone who travels the roads and railroads of China. Chinese travelers are burdened with bags or bun­ dles of items they are buying or selling. The explosion of service enter- THE FALL OF ZHAO ZIYANG 199

prises catering to the needs and desires of the urban population is accompanied by the appearance everywhere of workshops and manu­ factories. Extra space is turned to such moneymaking activities, and wherever geography and local custom allow, huge blocks of land are being used for such developments whether or not the law pronounces them entirely legitimate. Chinese journalists reported-before the statisticians and scholars did-that China has been producing more and more "peasants who are not peasants." Even the dependably settled urban and rural popu­ lations have been changing their ways. They are not the anxiously docile souls some were when they drilled with wooden rifles and dug air raid shelters during the Cultural Revolution. There is no doubt that Zhao's policies and politics have made him the champion of both the most rapidly growing component of China's society-the "circu­ lating" population drawn from home by opportunities to make money-and most of the urban population. Such changes reflect what the Chinese population itself wants and what the crushing of the student protest in Tiananmen Square most directly threatens. It is the size of this urban population that offers the best insurance against China's reversion to values and policies that are threatening to its neighbors as well as to itself. That these values per­ sist speaks to the powerful identification many of China's elderly lead­ ers feel for the mythical entity known as "rural China" since ancient, or "traditional," times. Deng, for one, reportedly suggested in his admonitory talks to leaders during the recent crisis that it does not matter if the students and their supporters desert the Party since it can depend on the army and the peasantry. Although army troops can be trained to treat stu­ dents as hooligans, increasingly less of China is dependable in the sense implied by Deng and others who still invoke the peasantry in all their explanations or exhortations. When speaking of "peasants" as a group who provide recruits and supporters of an army that can control the cities, Deng may be speaking of something that existed in the past mainly as a deterrent force. Forty per cent already may be a high estimate of the proportion of the Chinese population that Deng would call the "reliable" peasantry. And 40 per cent is probably already a low estimate of the proportion of the Chinese population that Deng by now would have to call "unreliable." Thus it seems that China has evolved into a tripartite society run by a tripartite Party-state-army political system, a fact that foreign policy makers and observers will have to bear in mind. Assessing the domestic costs of urban China's trauma is a com- 200 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES plex matter, but it is hard to imagine how the current regime could have paid a higher price abroad than that ensured by international media coverage of the democracy movement, the final crackdown, and the beginning of the police terror that followed. The regime damaged itself almost as much as it hurt those it declared to be its enemies. The current situation is reminiscent of the way Chinese army units in effect defeated themselves while defeating Vietnamese units in 1979. Even though Deng himself ordered the 1979 military campaign against Viet­ nam and decorated its "heroes," he subsequently used the "state se­ cret" of the army's deficiencies to strengthen his own control of the army and its budget. This control helped him buy time for the highly successful economic reforms over the following decade and earned him the reputation as both an adventurous reformer and a political moderate. Those who nourish hopes that Deng might again prove to be a moderating influence, however, must reckon with two major differ­ ences between the domestic political impact of the attack on Vietnam a decade ago and the Tiananmen incident. This time the Chinese cas­ ualties were entirely self-inflicted. And this time they could not be kept secret, particularly since they happened during a glasnost cam­ paign led by a Party chief. Moreover, Deng no longer has much time, even if he might again have the inclination, to switch back from the role of ruthless patriarch to that of moderate modernizer. It will probably be at least three years after the coup against Zhao before clear indications of the leadership situation emerge. The time frame could be altered by either the early death or long survival of Deng and a few of his conservative contemporaries. It will also be necessary to wait and see just how much the new leadership combina­ tion is inclined to carry out reforms for fixed terms of office and regu­ lar Party and state congresses. There is much interest but not much point in speculating about the role and attitudes of Deng alone at this time in his life and in China's history. Deng must now be seen as but one player in a four­ handed leadership game with Li Peng in charge of the state, Yang representing the army, and Jiang Zemin with the difficult job of fol­ lowing Zhao's spectacular act as Party chief and would-be Gorbachev. Although Deng would hate the comparison, perhaps the West should approach China more consciously, albeit inconspicuously, as if it had a monarch without an heir and a government formed by a three-party coalition. The open door policy continues, regrettably, only in the narrow­ est technical sense. A genuine resumption of the policies interrupted THE FALL OF ZHAO ZIYANG 201

so brutally on June 3-4 will require that China end the closed-cities policy that martial law in Beijing represents. The nationwide crack­ down had the effect of beginning to close cities to the full implementa­ tion of Zhao's coastal development policies. It is possible that China's new leaders will feel free to endorse some aspects of Zhao's coastal development policies without hurting their own careers now that the author of the reforms has been driven from power. But the more likely immediate results will be a tightening of government control over the extension of credit, the introduction of taxation on prosper­ ous private enterprises, and other policies of Li Peng that are designed to temper reform and "excessive" growth. The reopening of China's cities also depends on the beckoning and supporting presence of open cities elsewhere in East Asia, starting with Hong Kong and Taipei but also extending to and perhaps to Vladivostok someday. Among China's neighbors, Hong Kong and Taiwan have too much at stake personally for Westerners to take a righteous position toward what may look like opportunistic business behavior. Fortunately, the democracy movements in their own socie­ ties have been inspired rather than cowed by events on the mainland, thanks particularly to the alertness of Taiwan's President Lee, who responded to Zhao's initiatives by sending Shirley Kuo to Beijing at a time when Lee knew it would contribute to Zhao's success. China's Western trading partners have the best opportunity, as well as the responsibility, to develop a dual policy characterized by considerable use of official sanctions plus the expectation, if not active encouragement, of considerable private-sector exchange in business, culture, education, and science. In both official and private-sector contacts, no opportunity need be lost to raise human rights concerns on behalf of the thousands of democratic activists on the wanted lists of Chinese police, the hundreds already in custody, and the scores awaiting execution. Deng has already prepared Party cadres and the public for the harshest measures against "hooligans" and some activ­ ists by telling them, "Do not fear world opinion." Why then should the world be afraid to express its opinions? Tough sanctions stretching from military items to educational aid will make sense if they are coordinated among countries and regularly reviewed with an eye to their impact on the Chinese situation. Condi­ tions in Deng's China require something akin to the environmental impact assessments made for domestic programs of the U.S. govern­ ment. These could help ensure that particular sanctions are effective. The ultimate standard for policy judgments, in addition to the merits of individual human rights cases, ought to be the impact of specific 202 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES sanctions, on the one hand, and commercial and cultural contacts, on the other, on the future size and well being of the expanding "mid­ dling" classes in China, whose political reliability is now under ques­ tion but whose presence should lend a degree of stability and modernity to China's domestic and foreign policies. States to the West (including, one hopes, some East European states or parties) should be trying to serve the interests of a part of the Chinese population that is, in many respects, much like their own middle-class majorities. The sheer size of China's "middling" classes and urban popula­ tion allows confidence that measured toughness will not force China back into the ideological mode imposed on the country by Maoists. It also matters that xenophobic Maoism was a product of the very differ­ ent world conditions of the 1950s and 1960s, as well as the product, and partly the cause, of different conditions within China. Today it is both safe and prudent to make the West's interest in China's contemporary social classes a declared policy. This is particu­ larly true in light of the confused agrarian mythologizing in both Western and Chinese thinking that colors our understanding of what is distinctive and hopeful-or allegedly fearsome-in Chinese society and culture. The trauma of Tiananmen Square might suggest a more cautious "realism" in approaching leadership changes in communist states. The future Zhao or Gorbachev is, after all, unpredictable. But the real lesson from the eclipse of Zhao's brilliant career may be that when historically rare opportunities arise it is best to be an agent of change-and not its spectator or victim. It is too late to hope for much moderation from Deng, but another Zhao could emerge in due course. For their part, outside powers really have no alternative but to work with the forces inside China that Zhao represented. For they were creating the kind of China that can play a constructive role in the world and that can improve the living standards of the Chinese people. While harsh repression continues, the world cannot engage in business as usual. But in the long run it is in the interests of China's neighbors and friends that they renew constructive contact with the economic and social forces Zhao was attempting to guide. 11. YOUTH AND STUDENTS IN CHINA BEFORE AND AFfER TIANANMEN

Stanley Rosen

Over the last decade, the relations between Chinese youth and the Communist Party of China (CPC) were marked by an increasingly obvious irony, culminating in the tragic events of June 4, 1989. The successful implementation of the Party's ambitious modernization program required the active participation of China's brightest young people. To encourage such support, the CPC had, among other things, allowed them greater freedom of expression and association, recruited them into the Party and promoted their overseas study. At the same time, the gradual marketization of social and economic life had rendered the Party's blandishments relatively ineffective, and con­ tributed to the decline of the Party's social control. If youth faced highly indefinite prospects in 1978, relying on the Party to expand ed­ ucational opportunities, provide jobs and integrate them into the still uncertain post-Cultural Revolution society, by 1989 youth expecta­ tions had risen beyond the abilities-not to mention the inclinations­ of the CPC to meet them. In the aftermath of June 4, hardline Party leaders have reverted to a concentration on control, forsaking, at least for now, the erstwhile strategy of reaching out to youth. The dramatic change in youth expectations was in fact a product of the CPC's success in solving some of the thorniest problems left over from the Cultural Revolution, so that the structure of opportu­ nity,'in 1989 far exceeded the limited options confronting youth a dec­ ade earlier. The restoration of the university entrance examinations in December 1977 marked the end of the Maoist experimentation with educational levelling. A decade ago there was great pressure on young people to squeeze into the small number of university places. Only 178,000 ofthe 5.7 million candidates (4.87 percent) were able to enter a university in 1977. Those who were unsuccessful commonly became "youth waiting for work" (daiye qingnian ). The job market was over­ whelmed by the combination of current and recent-year high school graduates competing with older, "sent down" urban youth who had been trickling back from the countryside, particularly since the mid- 1970s. In those uncertain times, youth were seeking stability. En­ trance to a university virtually guaranteed a state-assigned job in gov­ ernment or a state enterprise. (203) 204 CoNTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

Politically as well, opportunities for youth were far from abun­ dant. The CPC, still recovering from Mao's Cultural Revolution as­ sault-spearheaded by college and high school Red Guards­ recruited only five million members from 1977-1983, far below the Cultural Revolution rate of recruitment. University students were shunned almost completely, as many Party officials resisted attempts to substitute ability for political loyalty as the main criterion for Party membership. Students for their part were suspicious of political en­ tanglements and, following ten years of educational minimalism, ea­ gerly were pursuing professional proficiency. As late as the end of 1983, fewer than 1 percent of Chinese undergraduates were Party members, the lowest figure since 1956. 1 If youth in the immediate post-Mao period had been seeking largely to recover the stability associated with the mid-1950s-repre­ sented by a good job in a state enterprise-youth by the late 1980s had expectations unimaginable a decade earlier. The pressure to enter a university had eased, particularly in those areas, such as , where a rapidly expanding economy offered a variety of educational alternatives and employment opportunities for those unable to attend a university. By 1987, there were 1,063 regular colleges and universi­ ties, with close to 2 million students. Nationally, 2.275 million appli­ cants sat for the university entrance examinations in that year, and 621,000 were recruited (27.13 percent)-2 The national rate of people in cities and towns awaiting employment had fallen from 5.9 percent in 1979 to 2 percent in 1986; moreover, employment difficulties had shifted from large and medium-sized cities down to the lower levels. One survey noted that the proportion of people waiting for employ­ ment in the county seats and towns relative to the total number of people waiting for jobs throughout the country had risen from 38 per­ cent in 1980 to 50 percent in 1986. 3 The creation of an educational system that is bifurcated into elite

1. Stanley Rosen, "The Chinese Communist Party and Chinese Society: Popular At­ titudes Toward Party Membership and the Party's Image," paper prepared for the annual meeting of the American Political Science Association, Atlanta, Georgia, August 31-Sep­ tember 3, 1989. To appear in The Australian Journal of Chinese Affairs, July 1990, pp. 51- 92. 2. It should be noted that only 524,000 were recruited under the state plan, and that 41,000 were sponsored by enterprises, 14,000 were self-financed students and 42,000 were recruited by the low prestige "irregular" T.V. and correspondence universities. Neverthe­ less, the contrast with the late 1970s remains striking. Zhongguo baike nianjian 1988 (Bei­ jing, Shanghai: Zhongguo dabaike quanshu chubanshe, December 1988), p. 479. 3. Yang Guohua, "Accomplishments in Employing Workers in Townships and Cities and the New Situation We Face," Qingnian yanjiu, No. 1, January 1988, translated in BEFORE AND AFTER TIANANMEN 205 and mass sectors, and the increasing importance of.- and possibilities for-material success had created differing . expectations among China's youth. For those unable to enter a "key" junior or senior high, continuing their schooling was considered to be a poor invest­ ment, since the likelihood of entrance to a good university was remote. On the other hand, dropping out and finding a well-paying job, or helping one's family prosper, became attractive possibilities. For those who could enroll in a good university, expectations were far higher. Of those graduating from the elite Beijing University in 1985, for example, 55 percent enrolled as graduate students; 13.7 percent were assigned to research institutes; 5.1 percent were assigned to colleges and universities; and, 13.3 percent went to government in­ stitutions. Only 10 percent went to production departments. The large majority of those going on to graduate school had a reasonable expectation that they could cap their climb up the educational ladder by studying abroad.4 Graduate students with marketable skills-e.g., foreign language or computer science majors-were able increasingly to benefit from China's more open labor market by transferring from their universities to well-paying jobs at one of China's new high-tech or foreign trade corporations, albeit at the cost of a transfer fee of several thousand yuan. Recent changes in the job assignment system, which allowed for more individual initiative in finding employment, had diminished further the state's control over the brightest university students. Politically, the Party had begun to look favorably on young intel­ lectuals beginning in 1984. Whereas only 318 university students in Beijing entered the CPC in 1980, over 6,000 joined in 1985. Although joining the Party represented a calculated risk- what some Chinese referred to as "a game of snakes and ladders"-and many resisted the temptation to join, there is no question that the CPC's major effort to attract the young and the talented had begun to bear fruit prior to the 1989 demonstrations. Still, relatively few students were interested in using Party membership to pursue a career in government or politics. One study of 344 graduating students at the elite Qinghua University found that 73.8 percent were committed to pursuing an academic ca­ reer, including study abroad; 9.3 percent expressed an interest in going

Stanley Rosen, ed., "Issues in Employment," Chinese Economic Studies, Vol. 21, No. 4, Summer 1988, pp. 69-91. 4. For details on job assignments of undergraduates and master's degree holders at Beijing University and University from 1983-1986, see Stanley Rosen, ed., "Profiles of Beijing University and Hangzhou University," Chinese Education, Vol. 21, No. 4, Winter, 1988-89. 206 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES into business and becoming rich; and, only 5.5 percent sought Party membership and a government position. 5 As the general overview presented above suggests, the Party's youth and education policy in the reform decade had not been a clear success. If opportunities for youth clearly improved over the ten year period, youth confusion and dissatisfaction were arguably as high in 1988 as they were in 1978, albeit for different reasons. If students had complained that studying was useless (dushu wuyong) during the Cul­ tural Revolution, the same complaints could be heard in the late 1980s. In their solution to educational problems brought about by the Cultural Revolution reforms, post-Mao reformers in tum created new problems. In the broader area of youth policy, the regime had failed in part because a divided leadership continued to pursue policies that ultimately were mutually contradictory. Policy had oscillated in re­ sponse to the waxing and waning of different leaders and . Thus, trends in youth attitudes and behavior that had been accorded praise or at least understanding at one point were reinterpreted and condemned later. In the aftermath of the military crackdown in and around Tiananmen Square, it is striking how much of the Party's post-Mao relationship to youth, which had been forged during the reform dec­ ade, has been rolled back. Whereas youth in the late 1970s sought a return to the stability of the 1950s, it is now the Party leadership that yearns for those halcyon days. Indeed, much of recent Party policy appears to be based on the reconceptualization of a China that existed prior to the Cultural Revolution. Revolutionary heroes of the early 1960s such as and Iron Man Wang Jinxi have been the sub­ ject of highly publicized emulation campaigns; political loyalty ("Red") has replaced expertise as the main criterion for Party mem­ bership and promotion; the already limited independence of mass or­ ganizations like the Communist Youth League (CYL) has been further restricted by a Central Committee Circular calling for tighter Party control over these transmission belts; another Central Committee communique has resurrected the concept of the to govern relationships between the Party and the people; and, there has been a renewed emphasis on working class leadership, central planning and other familiar policies of an earlier China. The attempts to restore social and ideological control through the

5. "An Investigation of the Ideology of a Portion of the Students at Four Nationally Prominent Universities," Qingnian gongzuo yanjiu yu cankao, February 10, 1989, pp. 16-19 (no cited author). BEFORE AND AFfER TIANANMEN 207

stress on the primacy of the Party have been accompanied by more specific policies intended to punish those who show recalcitrance in accepting the new rules of the game. Thus, the State Education Com­ mission has threatened to cut enrollment at colleges and universities that are found to have weak programs in ideological and political edu­ cation; new regulations called for those working in government or Party jobs at the national level who graduated in or after 1985 to be transferred to low-level provincial or rural jobs, with their return de­ pendent on their performance; and, in an increasingly tight job mar­ ket, exacerbated by economic retrenchment policies, political authorities have recentralized control over job allocations. Despite these policies, the regime's own findings, as revealed in survey data published in the Chinese press before and after June 4, as well as interviews with students, professors and politi;al workers, sug­ gest the almost certain failure of these measures beyond the short term. Interviewees note the cynicism and despair among students in China today. Even the small numbers of intellectual defenders of the regime, like the widely disliked He Xin, base their defense on the im­ portance of stability and the fear of chaos, not on a positive belief in communism. Everyone seems to acknowledge the prevailing senti­ ment as koushi xinfei (saying one thing and meaning another). Thus, the regime likely will be effective in preventing student unrest leading to an Eastern European scenario during the series of upcoming anni­ versary days and the September 1990 Asian games, but for the long term the policies are unrealistic, even anachronistic: the China that has been conceptualized no longer exists. The purpose of this article is to examine changing youth attitudes and behavior, and the party's interpretation of these changes. It will be argued that China's "liberal" reformers and conservative "ideo­ logues" were in sharp disagreement in their assessment of Chinese youth, that by 1988 the reformers had succeeded in gaining influence over important socializing agents at the expense of their opponents, and that the Tiananmen crackdown has reversed this process. Prior to June 4, the role of youth in an ongoing, successful reform process had been a common theme in such publications as Zhongguo qingnian (Chinese Youth) and Zhongguo qingnian bao (Chinese Youth Daily). After Tiananmen, the focus has shifted to the anti-state behavior of youth and their role in the turmoil.

EXPLAINING CHINESE YOUTH PRIOR TO JUNE 4 The CPC's youth policy has long been a source of internal con­ tention. Economic and ideo-political goals have coexisted uneasily 208 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

through most of the post-1949 period, with the presence of Chairman Mao as the ultimate arbiter contributing both to the periodic conflict and its resolution. With the shift of the country's focus to rapid eco­ nomic development in 1979, the previous emphasis on politics as class struggle was repudiated as "sham Marxism," but this did not remove the potential conflict. It was still necessary for the CPC to maintain political and ideological control, a feat accomplished through the im­ position of the Four Cardinal Principles (uphold the socialist road, the dictatorship of the proletariat, the leadership of the Communist Party and Marxism-Leninism-Mao Zedong Thought). Purposely vague, they have been invoked as constraints on unorthodox behavior in word or deed. A more obvious contradiction was the dual admonition in post­ Mao China to promote a Communist value system and to succeed through competitive efforts. Indeed, the signals youth received through the regime's socializing agents commonly were mixed and contradictory, a major point in post-Tiananmen critiques of ideo-polit­ ical work, varying directly with the forward, backward and sideways thrust of various aspects of the reform program. If highly critical views of the growing materialism of youth were often relegated to ob­ scure and internal CYL journals while the influence of radical reform­ ers waxed, these same views would appear in widely circulated national journals and newspapers during less hospitable times for re­ form, for example, after the student demonstrations of December 1986. Recent policies that emphasized old methods of political indoc­ trination and ideological control represent a victory of those in the Party who have been advocating such measures for years, but with only intermittent and short-lived successes. 6 That China's recent history could be interpreted in vastly differ­ ent ways is clear from an examination of the "reform decade's" influ­ ence on youth as presented in widely circulated and authoritative youth magazines and newspapers published before and after the "tur­ moil." Before the 1989 demonstrations, the views of the ideological hardliners had been eclipsed by those seeking to influence youth be­ havior more by carrots than by sticks. By 1988, the advocates of a policy that acknowledged the futility of outdated, heavy-handed polit­ ical indoctrination at a time when the CPC's ability to influence youth behavior had drastically declined were featured prominently in the

6. Stanley Rosen, "Political Education and Student Response: Some Background Factors Behind the 1989 Beijing Demonstrations," Issues and Studies, Vol. 25, No. 10, October 1989, pp. 12-39. BEFORE AND AFfER TIANANMEN 209

media. As the reform program was completing its first decade, these advocates argued forcefully that a youth policy that tied the success of young people to the nation's political and economic progress was far more effective than mere political and moral exhortation. These views received their widest currency throughout 1988 in a six-part series of celebratory articles in the national journal of the CYL. The series reflected on the positive changes for youth from 1978-1988.7 Focusing on key issue areas, each article traced the in­ creasing freedom and opportunity opened up to youth since the Third Plenum of the Eleventh Central Committee (December 1978). Thus, the transformation of the educational system had enabled youth to de­ velop their talents fully. If the decade began with a struggle merely to squeeze into a university ( re), before too long students were studying abroad in large numbers (chuguo re) (Part 1). The develop­ ment of a economy, the new system of agricultural con­ tracts, and the growth of special economic zones, among other factors, enabled enterprising youth with limited opportunities for educational success to become wealthy, for which it was no longer necessary to apologize (Part II). In politics, the ten years were marked by the persistent pursuit of democracy and popular participation. In this context, even the "De­ mocracy Wall" of the late 1970s was seen in essentially positive terms, and the student demonstrations of 1985 and 1986 were merely the "high tuition cost" inevitable in the pursuit of democracy (Part III). Perhaps the most crucial change was the "silent revolution" in youth values, marked by increasing secularization (shisuhua) and the pursuit of material benefits over spiritual concerns (Part IV). The transforma­ tion in male-female relationships, particularly love and sex, and youths' lack of excessive concern with the morality of others was the theme of Part V. The desirable male was no longer a "bookworm" (shu daizz), but an entrepreneur who could compete successfully in the marketplace. Indeed, in a passage that sounds almost eerie in the light of June 4, the article noted that "ten years ago the only true men (nanzihan) in the hearts of young women were soldiers, but today beautiful women dare to ride easily on the back of a private entrepre­ neur's motorcycle."8 Finally, reflecting a prevalent motif in intellec­ tual circles throughout 1988-the contention over China's cultural tradition and its proper place within a rapidly changing world-the

7. Zhongguo qingnian, No. 1, January 1988, pp. 2-5; No.3, March 1988, pp. 6-9; No. 5, May 1988, pp. 4-7; No.7, July 1988, pp. 2-5; No.9, September 1988, pp. 2-5; No. 11, November 1988, pp. 2-5. 8. Zhongguo qingnian, No. 9, September 1988, p. 2. 210 CoNTEMPORARY ASIAN STUDIES SERIES series concluded by interweaving China's past and future prospects with current conditions, noting how a feudal legacy continued to in­ hibit the country's development and prevent it from becoming inte­ grated into the world outside (Part VI). The "liberal" point of view taken in this series could, of course, be found in other journals. It was the publication of these ideas in the widely circulated, presumably orthodox and influential Chinese Youth magazine that made the series significant and worthy of particular at­ tention. The articles repeatedly brought forth negative images of China's feudal past and leftist lurch during the Cultural Revolution. For example, the piece on democracy began with a forceful poem that had inspired the April 5, 1976, demonstrations in Tiananmen Square, the beginnings of a movement which culminated in the political de­ mise of the "Gang of Four" and the rise to power of Deng Xiaoping. The authors did not hesitate to take sides on controversial issues. The young economist Zhang W eiying's provocative essay, entitled "Rehabilitate Money," which had been subjected to critical scrutiny and debate in 1983, was vigorously affi.rmed.9 Intellectual gurus such as Y an Jiaqi and Su Xiaokang were quoted favorably. The concluding piece offered solutions to China's backwardness that echoed Su's themes from the highly controversial television series, "River Elegy." Indeed, the co-author of the concluding article, Yuan Zhiming, had collaborated on the "River Elegy" script and, like Su, is currently in exile in America. Chinese Youth continued to present the views of liberal thinkers in 1989. In January, Su Shaozhi and Wang Yizhou "reminded" (tishl) young people of the "triple anniversary" of the French Revolution, the May Fourth Movement and the liberation of China, and the role of youth in the forefront ofthese struggles. 10 In February, Yan Jiaqi was interviewed on the relevance of "Mr. Democracy," "Mr. Science" and "Mr. Law" to the current Chinese situation. 11 Far more controversial ideas than those expressed in Chinese Youth could be found in Shekou tongxun bao in 1988 and early 1989. In a series of articles on and , this special economic zone paper critically evaluated the regime's propaganda ex­ tolling the "moral spirit" of such official youth heroes as Lei Feng, and Zhu Boru, arguing that these "moral supreme beings

9. For Zhang's essay and several responses, see Stanley Rosen, ed., "The Impact of Modernization on the Socialization of Chinese Youth," Chinese Education, Vol. 18, No. 1, Spring 1985, pp. 51-61. 10. Zhongguo qingnian, No. 1, January 1989, pp. 1-2. 11. Zhongguo qingnian, No.2, February 1989, pp. 2-4. BEFORE AND AFTER TIANANMEN 211

of heaven" had become an "ideological burden" that had to be shed if socialism with Chinese characteristics was to be constructed. 12 What attracted the most attention, however, was the so-called "Shekou Storm," which was a frontal assault on the old concepts of politics and morality. 13 In January, 1988, invited by the local CYL branch, three well­ known "professors" of propaganda from the Research Center on Ideo­ logical Education for Chinese Youth addressed seventy young workers in Shekou, in the Shenzhen special economic zone (SEZ). What made the symposium newsworthy was the unexpected attack on the content and form of traditional ideological work by members of the audience. Two cultures had collided. Youth in Shekou had no patience with what one called "empty sermons," preferring "a discussion of concrete questions." The propagandists were used to neither dialogue nor dis­ courtesy. They could not have expected to be challenged on positions they considered unassailable. For example, one professor had earlier criticized as "gold diggers" those who came to the SEZs to make money; rather, they "should contribute a large portion of their income to the state to be spent on public welfare." This smacked of "leftism" to some youth, who pointed out that making money was fine and, in fact, gold diggers had developed the American west. Confronted with what they took to be the familiar sanctimonious, self-righteous style of the propagandists, the youth seemed to enjoy flaunting their freedom and Shekou's "foreignness." One reportedly noted that "the central government is far away. Even if I swear at you, no one will come to interfere, and my Hong Kong boss will not fire me because ofthis." Another stated: "We find newspaper propa­ ganda disgusting. It says Shenzhen takes the socialist road with Chi­ nese characteristics. What Chinese characteristics are actually there? The characteristics of Shenzhen are foreign characteristics!" One propagandist, when challenged, asked whether the troublesome youth dared to reveal his name. To great amusement, he presented his busi­ ness card. Although brief accounts of this encounter were published in Shekou, the national press, for example, China Youth Daily, was for-

12. Shekou ton~xun. bao, ., 1988, p. 3 and January 19, 1989, p. 3. 13. The followmg discussion draws from the Daily Report, September 21, 1988, pp. 53- 60 (Renmin Ribao, August 6 and 29, and September 14); the Daily Report, September 28, 1988, pp. 68-70 (Renmin Ribao, September 3), the Daily Report, October 26, 1988, pp. 19- 21 (Jingjixue Zhoubao, October 2); China News Analysis, No. 1374, December 15, 1988; Chang Tianyu, ."Wh~t does the 'Shekou Storm' signify?", Guangjiaojing, September 1988, pp. 94-95, and mterv1ew data. 212 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES bidden to reprint information on the subject for many months. Then, between August 15 and September 16, 1988, People's Daily published 35letter~ut of the thousands received-commenting on the Shekou Storm. The propagandists were given a chance to reiterate and defend their style and their views. They also noted their own personal health and family difficulties, and lack of interest in financial remuneration. In comments that could have been made by any political work cadre, one noted that: "When ideological and political work is difficult, we who work on the front line have given so much and yet have not been properly assessed." Most poignantly, he ended with a plea, saying: "We admit that we need to improve. However, even if there are weak­ nesses and mistakes in our work, shouldn't people help in a positive way and as comrades?" In fact, the level of confusion and dissatisfaction among youth was a common theme in the late 1980s in specialized journals. One writer compared Bei Dao's 1976 short poem "A Reply" (Huida), in which he exclaimed "I Do Not Believe," thus articulating "the awak­ ening, doubting, and reflecting of that generation" to Cui Jian's "I Have Nothing," China's first rock-and-roll song a decade later, which became the anthem of the "new-birth generation" (xin sheng daz). 14 Analyzing the youth culture in the aftermath of the failed student pro­ test movement of December 1986-January 1987, one student com­ pared the resulting loss of idealism to the experience of the Red Guards in the 1960s, noting that "the majority of students have fallen from the clouds to earth, and are now beginning to pay attention to reality and practicality."15 He also suggested the similarity between the growing individualism and negative rebelliousness on university campuses to a "fin-de-siecle" mood, in which students "cope with each day and just seek to get by, having no sense of anything beyond just making a living." Others spoke of three factions on the campus­ tuopai, mapai, and xuanpai (TOEFL faction, mah jongg faction and revolving or dancing faction). Interest in officially-sanctioned student activities and general pub­ lic service on the campuses had waned. In May 1987, when elections for a new student union were conducted at Wuhan University, more than 40 percent of the students did not bother to vote. Six months earlier they had demanded the student union be reconstituted or abol­ ished. In September, when the same student union conducted a sur­ vey, they found that 80 percent of the students did not have confidence

14. Dangdai qingnian yanjiu, No. 8, August 1988, pp. S-6. 15. Hainanjishi, No.5, May 1989, pp. 18-27. BEFORE AND AFI'ER TIANANMEN 213

in the union and 90 percent felt that the union's work did not concern them at all. In the second half of 1988, a class at Wuhan University felt compelled to hire a student, at a compensation of 70 yuan a semes­ ter, to be social life commissioner; no one had been willing to serve. At Zhongshan University in Guangzhou, it was discovered that nearly half of the classes had not promoted any group activities over the past year. These examples may be multiplied. 16 This was just part of the picture, however. The disillusion with collective action common from 1986-1988 led to a "theory mania" on the campuses. The most influential Western were Sartre, Nietzsche, Maslow and Adler, with students intrigued by their ideas about the infinite potential of man, individual freedom of choice and ultimate self-actualization, to name a few. Chinese authorities long had been concerned about the impact of Western thought on the campuses and periodically had conducted surveys to assess its influence. They were particularly sensitive to this issue as the age and experience of new university students began to drop by 1979-1980, when more and more students came directly from secondary school. When did a study of the 1978, 1979 and 1980 entering classes in the departments of philosophy and computer science, they discovered that more recent entrants admitted they did not understand theories of existentialism and "" (70-85 percent), but the 1978 class felt much more comfort­ able commenting on these theories, assessing them in general as erro­ neous, but with some reasonable elements. 17 A survey at Beijing University was more extensive, and students were asked for their views on a series of Western works and authors. The least familiar book was a commentary on the of Social Research (76 percent did not know of the Frankfurt School). and Rousseau were more familiar to the students, and a book on the history of contemporary Western philosophy (probably by ) was rated highest. Although over 67 percent had not had contact with this last work, over 20 percent thought it had research value, and 11 percent felt its reference materials were useful. 18 Table 1 is from a survey of students in the entering classes of 1980 and 1981 at Shanghai Normal Institute, which reports rather similar results. It is important to realize, however, that by the early 1980s

16. Ibid. 17. Qingnian yanjiu, No.7, 1982. 18. Ibid. 214 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES there was already a wave of interest in Western writings and an indif­ ference to standard ideo-political works by the usual suspects. Table 2 gives some indication of this. It was perhaps only a matter of time before Western philosophical writings would find a market on Chinese campuses. Indeed, the incessant preaching against the dangers posed by such "forbidden" authors as Freud, Sartre and Nietzsche by dis­ credited political thought cadres, who may not even have read, much less understood, these writings, merely made them more attractive to the students. The criticism against these authors had increased markedly by 1987, and continued thereafter unabated. Thus, a report in Beijing Ribao (Beijing Daily) blamed a university student's suicide on his reading of Sartre and Nietzsche. A more comprehensive series of studies blamed these theorists for a variety of ills. One youth league journal listed the following survey results, among others, to document the pernicious influence of existentialism: (1) a study of 12 student suicides from January-April 1987 at ten Shanghai universities; (2) a study in parts of Jinshan, Songjiang and Chuansha districts which re­ vealed that 65 percent of the youth were living together without the benefit of marriage, and thought such cohabitation "normal" and "a result of free choice;" (3) a study of 27 Shanghai universities and 95 scientific research institutes which showed a sharp decline in new can­ didates for master's degrees and lower exam scores for the applicants they had. 19 Moreover, Sartre was blamed explicitly for the declining authority of the Four Cardinal Principles. The following passage, from an essay critical ofSartre and existentialist theory, reports results from another survey of Shanghai universities and provides the flavor of the critique: Under the ideological impact of the proposition that "life is nihilistic, and the world is ridiculous," some young people have grown to have little confidence, or none at all, in Marx­ ism-Leninism, in socialism, and in the leadership of the Communist Party. According to some statistics, 52.86 per­ cent of the young students have not given any thought to joining the Chinese Communist Party or Party organiza­ tions; 14.36 percent expressed clearly that they simply will not consider it, and 82 percent see communism as an illusion that can be seen from afar but not actually approached. 20

19. Times, May 28, 1987; Tuande Shenghuo (Shanghai), No.2, February 1988, p. 33. 20. Dangdai qingnian yanjiu, No. 2, February 1989, p. 11. BEFORE AND AFTER TIANANMEN 215

TABLE 1 DO YOU UNDERSTAND SARTRE AND HIS THEORY? N = 1,069 Responses Number Percentage Read Sartre's Works and Commentaries 120 11.2% Heard about it from Others 196 18.3% Haven't Heard about It 547 51.2% Other Responses 14 1.3% No Response 192 18.0% Source: Ye Jun, "Guanyu daxuesheng dushu qingkuangde diaocha" [An Investigation of the Reading Preferences of University Students] in Gaodeng xuexiao deyu yanjiu wenji [A Collection of Writings Reporting Research on Moral Education in Universities] (Beijing: Moral Education Research Office, Institute of Youth Studies, Chinese Academy of Social Sciences, February 1983), Table 7, p. 328.

POST-TIANANMEN ANALYSES OF CHINESE YOUTH

The open challenge to the Chinese leadership in the spring and the brutal military crackdown of June 3-4 provided an opportunity for more orthodox political work cadres to launch a counterattack, not just on recent questionable writings, but on more general grounds. In­ dividual articles by "elite" intellectuals who had "fled" China were of course singled out. Su Shaozhi and Wang Yizhou were now accused of "inciting" () youth to action, not merely reminding them of the earlier actions of their predecessors. 21 Yan Jiaqi's Chinese Youth interview, predictably, was interpreted as advocating a system of Western capitalist democracy for China. 22 The Shekou Storm inci­ dent was revisited and now seen as a deliberate attempt to use the media to negate the Party's ideo-political work. The three abused political workers, along with many of their comrades, once again were able to preach without refutation.23 Indeed, seeking explanations for the student unrest, these same authoritative newspapers and magazines for youth reinterpreted the entire decade from 1978-1988, seeing the trends in far less sanguine terms. 24 The key event to be explained is no longer the reform program

21. Personal communication with Su Shaozhi. 22. Zhongguo qingnian, No. 9, September 1989, p. 11. 23. Zhongguojiaoyu bao, August 8, 1989, p. 1; August 22, 1989, p. 4. 24. See, for example, the articles from Beijing qingnian bao and Sixiang jiaoyu yanjiu, No. 3 and No.4, 1989, reprinted in Zhongguo qingnian bao, August 28, 1989, p. 3. 216 CoNTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

TABLE2 WHAT KIND OF BOOKS DO YOU LIKE TO READ? N = 1,815 Book Category Number Percentage Foreign Novels and Stories 469 25.8% Books in Own Specialty 350 19.3% Books for the Self-Cultivation of Youth 348 19.2% Chinese Novels and Stories 342 18.8% Works in Psychology 115 6.3% Works in Philosophy 77 4.2% Marxism-Leninism 48 2.6% Political Theory 44 2.4% Works by Chairman Mao and Other Revolutionaries of the Older Generation 22 1.2% Source: Ye Jun, "Guanyu daxuesheng dushu qingkuangde diaocha" [An Investigation of the Reading Preferences of University Students] in Gaodeng xuexiao deyu yanjiu wenji [A Collection of Writings Reporting Research on Moral Education in Universities] (Beijing: Moral Education Research Office, Institute of Youth Studies, Chinese Academy of Social Sciences, February 1983), p. 320.

and its success, but rather the "turmoil" and the anti-state behavior of the students. Viewed from this perspective, the growing awareness and increasing opportunity afforded young people by a steadily matur­ ing reform program is replaced by a critique of ideo-political work and a cyclical theory of youth behavior. University students in particular are seen as wavering elements, lurching from one "hot topic" to an­ other, beset by ideological contradictions. Moreover, their sense of mission combined with a lack of responsibility to make them easily mobilizable, whether by a leftist Jiang Qing in the Cultural Revolution or "elite" intellectuals such as Yan Jiaqi in 1989. Post-Tiananmen assessments commonly trace the changing out­ look on life (rensheng guan) of university students through a series of stages, noting that ideo-political workers at each stage were unable to overcome the lack of appropriate ideals that have marked youth atti­ tudes in the aftermath of the Cultural Revolution. 25 Students are seen as alternating between private and public values. One author de­ scribed students as initially concerned with social and politica1 problems (1979-1981), later turning inward and concentrating primar-

25. For example, Zhongguo qingnian bao, November 2, 1989, p. 3, which discusses six stages since 1980. BEFORE AND AFTER TIANANMEN 217

ily on their own futures (1982-1984). The next stage found them once again oriented toward society and politics, bringing on the stude?t demonstrations of 1985 and 1986. They also had become caught up m the hot political, economic and cultural topics that dominated schol­ arly discussion in intellectual circles, including debates over Western thought trends, democracy and the T.V. series "River Elegy." When they lost confidence in developments in the larger society (the reform process) and their own futures, their depression hit bottom. This cur­ rent phase of the cycle, the author concluded, had yet to run its course. 26 Despite their division of the reform decade into stages, post-"tur­ moil" accounts of youth attitudes and behavior are dominated by ideo­ political concerns and are essentially unilinear in showing how early warning signs of youth malaise went unchecked, leading, step-by-step, to an open challenge to the Communist Party. Moreover, in building their case, such accounts focus almost solely on the key actors in the turmoil-university students-at the expense of other youth. Earlier positive accounts, although more balanced in their discussion of re­ form in a variety of issue areas, also tended to be unilinear. Both types of accounts, marshalling evidence for unambiguous conclusions, like­ wise suffer from a familiar affiiction called "cutting with one knife" (yidaoqie), in which youth too often are presented conveniently as an undifferentiated group. Only occasionally does one find distinctions made among youth, for example, in different geographical areas, from families with different income levels, and in different types and at dif­ ferent levels of schooling. It would be useful, therefore, to attempt some preliminary disaggregation. Are there significant differences in the values and aspirations of youth in, for example, special economic zones and the interior, in the urban and rural areas, at different levels of schooling, and over time? Although there has been a significant amount of survey research done by Chinese researchers on this sub­ ject, the questions are large and can be addressed only superficially here. To give a flavor of some ofthe research in this field, we present a few of the studies conducted by researchers in the city of Guangzhou. Guangzhou researchers seem to have been the most active in comparing youth attitudes and behavior in their city to cities else­ where in China, at least in part to dispel some of the criticism of the "open policy" and its negative effects on youth. The surveys often seem to have an agenda, to demonstrate the benefits the open policy can bring.

26. Zhongguo qingnian bao, August 28, 1989, p. 3. 218 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

One imaginative study by a well-known young social scientist in Guangzhou compared Guangzhou to Chengdu in terms of the impact of outside forces on youth (age 35 and under). The author's starting point was the widespread hypothesis that Guangzhou, a coastal city presumably heavily influenced by Hong Kong and the West (nearly 70 percent of the city's residents have relatives either in Hong Kong, Ma­ cao or other countries), should be affected much more by negative fac­ tors associated with the open policy than Chengdu, an inland city which is presumed to be relatively free of influences from the outside world. Interestingly, the author shows that while Guangzhou youth have been affected marginally by negative, nontraditional values (such as somewhat greater willingness to accept cohabitation by lovers who are unmarried), they also have been influenced more by positive values from outside, such as a greater display of individual initiative. In ad­ dition, though Chengdu youth have had less exposure to foreign cul­ ture than Guangzhou youth, "the proportion of those who take an affirmative attitude toward the propaganda of Western culture is 12 percent more than in the Guangzhou group." The author concludes, therefore, that "contamination by foreign ideology and culture is not necessarily in direct proportion to the amount of exposure one has to it." Given the general perception of Guangzhou decadence in much of the rest of China, there is a certain defensiveness in the study. Wit­ ness, for example, the following passage: Some people hold that Guangzhou opened its door to the outside world earlier than other places and Guangzhou peo­ ple have more access to foreign ideology and culture, and thus inevitably it must be the "hardest hit area" of spiritual contamination. This viewpoint manifests a lack of national pride and an absence of a realistic attitude. It is the symp­ tom of neurasthenia and lacks logical reasoning. And it does not tally with the actual situation in Guangzhou. 27 Another study, by a researcher at the Guangzhou Institute for Educational Research, surveyed graduating junior and senior high school students in Guangzhou and Xian concluding, among other things, that Guangzhou students were not as desperate to enter key schools and universities as their Xian counterparts. With the rapid development of the economy, job possibilities had become quite good in Guangzhou. 28

27. Guangzhou yanjiu, No. 4, August 1984, pp. 18-22. 28. See Zhongguojiaoyu xuehui tongxun, No.2, 1987, pp. 28-32; Guangzhou yanjiu, No. 9, 1986, pp. 45-48. BEFORE AND AFrER TIANANMEN 219

But praise for the positive changes in the areas open to foreign influence came from publications outside Guangzhou as well. One study published in Beijing described the change in the sense of values held by Chinese youth over the course of the reform decade. One area singled out for special consideration was the differential impact the reforms had had on youth in different geographical areas. In open areas, youth were seen as less conservative and inflexible. For exam­ ple, the survey noted that 45.2 percent of young intellectuals agreed that "it is more valuable to make contributions than to receive bene­ fits," with another 16.7 percent treating giving and receiving as equal values. By contrast, only 24 percent of young intellectuals outside the open areas made such selfless choices. Similarly, while 19 percent of those outside the open areas agreed that "as long as they did things with a clear conscience, they didn't care about the results," only 6 percent of those in the open areas agreed with this statement. 29 The most recent example of such a survey was likewise conducted by a researcher at the Guangzhou Educational Research Institute. 30 Questionnaires were distributed to 2,433 junior and senior high stu­ dents from Shenzhen, Guangzhou, Hangzhou, Xian and (representing special economic zones, coastal open cities, coastal open districts and interior cities) to determine the differences in ideological concepts in different types of geographical areas. Ten major changes in concepts are discussed. Although it is unclear when the survey was conducted, the results cast a very different light on the open areas. Indeed, it is not difficult to see why selected findings were given wide circulation in a national youth newspaper published after June 4. It certainly suggests that survey results will continue to be used in pur­ suit of political agendas. For example, when it came to large societal issues, 55 percent of the students were most concerned with "develop­ ing the economy and raising the standard of living." Only 4 percent were concerned with "persisting in a socialist direction." Students in open districts were considerably more concerned with an emphasis on economics over politics. When it came to ideals, 57 percent of the students felt the purpose of studying was to meet the practical needs of the individual (to get promoted, find a job, learn more), while 26 per­ cent felt that the purpose of studying was to benefit society or meet the demands of the times (shidai xuqiu ). Again, individual interest was significantly stronger in open districts than in the interior. Other surveys of secondary school students show similar results,

29. Shidai (Beijing), No. 6, June 1988, pp. 13-14. 30. Zhongguo qingnian bao, October 30, 1989, p. 3. 220 CoNTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES pointing up the failure to instill proper morality in young students. For example, a study done in a county of province asked, among other questions, who the students felt was the greatest individ­ ual, the one most worthy of respect. Of the 100 senior high students queried, 38 percent chose themselves.Jl A survey in Shandong found that only 43 percent of the students polled "believed" in Marxism; 55 percent believed in nothing; and 1.3 percent believed in religion. 32 These surveys appear to be part of a general trend, following the victory of the hardline forces, to air discussions of social problems and evidence of moral decline more openly. This fits in with the campaign against the "six vices" (liu hal) and critiques of the unacceptable side effects of the reform program. Thus, one commonly finds articles on prostitution, pornography, unmarried couples living together, female and child abduction and homosexuality, to name a few, in the widely circulated press, particularly magazines for youth. Although such prurient reading material not incidentally is also good for circula­ tion-the market still rules in the highly competitive field of magazines for teenagers-at least some of these stories in the past would have been relegated to internally circulated and specialized journals for scholars and political workers. Despite the clear decline of serious work on Chinese public opin­ ion, it is still possible to find studies of political attitudes and socializa­ tion of college students in open academic journals. Tables 3-8 are drawn from a survey conducted by a Fudan University researcher among 150 students (200 questionnaires were distributed), including graduate students and undergraduates representing entering classes from 1985 to 1988. Among the findings, one notes an indifference to politics (Table 3) and a strong concern with material success (Table 8). Interestingly, there is also a strong feeling that students should be en­ gaged in politics (Table 5) and that the indifference noted may not represent the true picture (Table 4). It is also striking that only 2.7 percent were "very confident" about the future of reform (Table 6) and that a majority admitted that the strong desire to go abroad was related to the slow pace of reform (Table 7). These results are quite similar to what one hears from interviewees.

31. Zhongguo qingnian bao, December 11, 1989, p. 3. 32. China News Analysis, No. 1395, October 15, 1989, p. 8, from Renmin Ribao,Ju1y 1, 1989. BEFORE AND AFI'ER TIANANMEN 221

TABLE3 WHAT IS YOUR VIEW OF THE FOLLOWING EXPRESSION: "NOWADAYS UNIVERSITY STUDENTS ARE INDIFFERENT TO POLmCS''?

N = 150 Strongly Agree 22.4% Generally Agree 21.8% Agree Somewhat 25.9% Disagree 21.1% Firmly Oppose 5.4% Other 3.4% Source: Sun Jiaming and Lin Jianhong, "Daxuesheng zhengzhi shehuihua: xianzhuang. wenti ji duice" [The Political Socialization of University Students: Current Conditions, Problems and Countermeasures], Shehui Kexue [Social Science], No. 12, December 1989, p. 53.

TABLE 4 FROM WHAT YOU'VE SEEN AND HEARD, WHAT IS YOUR UNDERSTANDING OF THE CONCERN UNIVERSITY STUDENTS NOW HAVE TOWARD CURRENT EVENTS (REFORM AND THE OPEN POLICY)?

N = 150 Very Concerned 11.3% Superficially Unconcerned, But Deep Down Very Concerned 36.2% Not Too Concerned 40.4% Very Unconcerned 5.7% Other 6.4% Source: Sun Jiaming and Lin Jianhong, ''Daxuesheng zhengzhi shehuihua: xianzhuang, wenti ji duice" [The Political Socialization of University Students: Current Conditions, Problems and Countermeasures], Shehui Kexue [Social Science], No. 12, December 1989, p. 53. 222 CoNTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

TABLE 5 DO YOU FEEL THAT UNIVERSITY STUDENTS SHOULD ACI'IVELY DISCUSS AND PARTICIPATE IN POLmCS?

N = 150 Definitely Should 33.8% Should 41.4% Should Not 6.2% Can't Say For Sure 14.5% Other 4.1% Source: Sun Jiaming and Lin Jianhong, "Daxuesheng zhengzhi shehuihua: xianzhuang, wenti ji duice" [The Political Socialization of University Students: Current Conditions, Problems and Countermeasures], Shehui Kexue [Social Science], No. 12, December 1989, p. 53.

TABLE 6 DO YOU HAVE CONFIDENCE IN THE FUTURE OF REFORM?

N = 150 Very Confident 2.7% Confident 37.4% Can't Say For Sure 38.8% No Confidence 14.9% Other 6.2% Source: Sun Jiaming and Lin Jianhong, "Daxuesheng zhengzhi shehuihua: xianzhuang, wenti ji duice" [The Political Socialization of University Students: Current Conditions, Problems and Countermeasures], Shehui Kexue [Social Science], No. 12, December 1989, p. 53. BEFORE AND AFTER TIANANMEN 223

TABLE 7 WHAT IS YOUR VIEW OF THE FOLLOWING EXPRESSION: "THE CRAZE TO GO ABROAD THESE DAYS IS A REACI'ION TO THE SLUGGISH DEVELOPMENT OF CHINESE REFORMS"?

N = 150 Agree 20.4% There's Some Truth In This 36.8% Disagree 32.7% Firmly Oppose 6.1% Other 4.0% Source: Sun Jiaming and Lin Jianhong, "Daxuesheng zhengzhi shehuihua: xianzhuang, wenti ji duice" [The Political Socialization of University Students: Current Conditions, Problems and Countermeasures], Shehui Kexue [Social Science], No. 12, December 1989, p. 53.

TABLE 8 THE THINGS OF MOST INTEREST TO STUDENTS THESE DAYS

N = 150 Finding A Good Job 31.0% Making Money 27.3% Going Abroad 25.7% Love and Romance 8.6% Doing Well In Studies 1.6% Source: Sun Jiaming and Lin Jianhong, "Daxuesheng zhengzhi shehuihua: xianzhuang. wenti ji duice" [The Political Socialization of University Students: Current Conditions, Problems and Countermeasures], Shehui Kexue [Social Science], No. 12, December 1989, p. 53.

CONCLUSION Following the 1986-87 student demonstrations, Vice-director of the State Education Commission, He Dongchang, could note blithely that only 2 percent of China's college students had taken part. Thus, publicly at least, they were viewed as unrepresentative of the main­ stream of the student body. No such claim could be made in 1989. Official accounts noted that 2. 8 million students from 600 institutions of higher learning in 80 cities had taken to the streets. In the after­ math, many culprits had been found. The CYL was one of the first organizations to be blamed, with the league and its media arms, such as Chinese Youth Daily, scheduled for revamping even before the June 224 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

4 denouement. 33 In a post-mortem, entitled "Ten Weaknesses of Ideo­ logical Work for Young People," Chinese Youth reported on a survey of 86 CYL cadres. One finding was that 73 percent of the cadres saw youth work as only human relations (renqing gongzuo ). Thus, they won over their charges by being "good old boys," and joining the youth in such activities as playing mah jongg, gambling and drinking. Another problem was that the cadres simply did what the higher levels told them, reading out documents as needed. One survey found that more than 43 percent did not bother to prepare when teaching CYL courses (tuanke}, so there was little real discussion. 34 This was part of a larger problem of recruiting and retaining young and capable political workers. Tang Shaoming, director of the Education Bureau under the Propaganda Department of the CPC Central Committee, told a reporter that it was virtually impossible to find anyone to do ideo-political work in universities who is around 30 years old. Those of that age might be willing to work two or three years in such a post, but would then transfer to academic work or enroll as post-graduate students at universities, leading to high turno­ ver rates. 35 Partly because political work is seen as temporary, polit­ ical workers "have regarded their greatest achievements as when students do not cause trouble. " 36 Perhaps such defensiveness is not surprising. During the 1989 demonstrations, CYL cadres were "slan­ dered as 'traitors to students,' and denounced by big-character posters."37 It is difficult to see how political work can improve under current conditions. Liu Zhengwei, party secretary in province, sug­ gested CYL cadres and other youth need to "read more good books. " 38 He Dongchang, to his credit, seemed to have suggested the opposite, at least from the current Chinese viewpoint, when he argued that political workers would need to read and understand Western Marxism and other recent theories, if they wanted to have an influence on the students. Li Ruihuan, a member of the CPC Politburo Stand­ ing Committee responsible for ideological work, has likewise advo­ cated an enhanced role for political education, while admitting that the form and methods suitable for such work remain to be

33. Daily Report, May 2, 1989, pp. 25-26 (South China Morning Post, May 2). 34. Zhongguo qingnian, No. 8, August 1989, pp. 27-28; Zhongguo qingnian bao, No- vember 6, 1989, p. 3. 35. Daily Report, August 25, 1989, pp. 13-15 (Liaowang, August 14). 36. Daily Report, August 30, 1989, p. 28 (Guangming Ribao, August 23). 37. Daily Report, August 4, 1989, p. 22 (Guangming Ribao, July 23). 38. Daily Report, July 24, 1989, p. 63 (Radio , July 23). BEFORE AND AFTER TlANANMEN 225

discovered. 39 In the meantime, more practical means for controlling student behavior are being used. The plan to allow a growing number of col­ lege graduates to find their own jobs has been suspended. Party and government organs at or above the provincial level have been told that they cannot, except in special circumstances, directly employ gradu­ ates or postgraduate students from institutions of higher learning. Marxist training on university campuses has been intensified, with clear indications that some Party and academic leaders are seeking to expand these measures and reimpose political tests as a criterion in university admissions, faculty hiring and selection of candidates for overseas study. Following the dramatic political changes in the Soviet Union, Chinese authorities announced stiff new regulations to control student activities, including the requirement that college graduates must work for five years before studying overseas, or else pay steep fines. 40 Interviewees report that student behavior is being controlled most effectively by the recentralization of the job assignment system. They describe a situation somewhat reminiscent of the Cultural Revolution when youth and their parents sought to avoid a posting to the rural areas. The enhanced role of political workers in making these assign­ ment decisions has contributed to the creation of a more compliant student body. Still, there are reports in the overseas press of the less than friendly questioning Chinese leaders have received when they have ventured on the campuses, with Yuan Mu's difficulties at Beijing University and Jiang Zemin's problems at Qinghua University most widely reported. The "craze" to go abroad has never been greater, although are­ cent Chinese regulation makes such overseas study increasingly diffi­ cult. The regulation divides students into three categories, according to family background. In category one are the children or direct rela­ tives of "the six kinds of people" (liulei renyuan ). These include: (1) Overseas Chinese who have returned to live in China; (2) Overseas Chinese residing overseas; (3) Hong Kong compatriots; (4) Macao compatriots; (5) Taiwan compatriots; and, (6) Chinese with foreign citizenship. Category two includes "non-direct" relatives of the "six kinds of people." Category three are those not related to the "six kinds of people."

39. Daily Report, October 23, 1989, pp. 18-19 (Xinhua, October 21). 40. Chronicle of Higher Education, , 1989; , February 10, 1990; New York Times, February 8, 1990; Far Eastern Economic Review, August 24, 1989, p. 13; Daily Report, August 22, 1989, p. 13 (Hong Kong Wen weipo, August 22). 226 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

Those in category three must work for five years after university graduation before applying to study abroad. Category two students can avoid this work requirement by paying an "education fee" (peiyang fez) as follows: 2,500 renminbi (rmb) per year for college stu­ dents; 4,000 rmb per year for master's students; and, 6,000 rmb a year for doctoral students. For the fortunate category one students, there is neither a five-year work requirement nor an education fee. Those who return to China within eight years can get a full refund of their educa­ tion fee. 41 Interviewees report the craze to go abroad is now accompa­ nied by the craze to discover long-lost relatives. While these measures surely have affected overt behavior, regain­ ing a constituency among China's youth will not be easy. One recent survey conducted among Beijing University students by the Chinese Political Consultative Committee reportedly found that only 20 per­ cent expressed ideological accord with the current leadership; 40 per­ cent said they would not be won over; and, 40 percent did not respond.42 A recent State Education Commission delegation to the United States was unsuccessful in winning many converts among stu­ dents studying abroad. Reportedly, the group virtually abandoned its efforts after an abortive meeting with Chinese students at the Univer­ sity of Illinois. Indeed, the views of overseas students toward the current regime have been studied. Table 9 reports an intriguing, albeit highly un­ scientific, survey in which students currently abroad (the fifth genera­ tion) were asked to evaluate well-known figures who studied abroad in the first four generations. They were given 11 names and asked to rate each person from one to ten. Not surprisingly, Li Peng brings up the rear, the small standard deviation suggesting there was little ambiguity regarding China's premier. Deng Xiaoping, a far more controversial figure, elicited the largest standard deviation, with respondents vary­ ing from a minimum score of zero to a maximum score of nine. Sun Y at-sen, in a category by himself, was seen as making the greatest contributions to China, while T.D. Lee, Zhou Enlai and join Deng as "middle characters," with both supporters and detractors.

41. IFCSS Liaison Office News Release, No. 63, March 14, 1990. 42. Xingdao ribao, December 26, 1989. BEFORE AND AFI'ER TIANANMEN 227

TABLE 9 EVALUATION OF ELEVEN INDIVIDUALS WHO HAD STUDIED ABROAD N = "more than 80" Average Point Standard Minimum Maximum Name Total Deviation Score Score Sun Yat-sen 8.9 1.28 4 10 Fang Lizhi 7.6 1.57 3 10 7.5 1.29 4 10 LuXun 6.9 1.95 0 10 Hu Shi 6.8 1.42 3 10 T.D. Lee 5.7 2.13 0 9 Zhou Enlai 5.1 2.46 0 10 Qian Xuesen 4.5 2.30 0 10 Deng Xiaoping 3.8 2.57 0 9 Jiang Zemin 2.2 1.89 0 7 Li Peng 0.4 0.93 0 5 Source: Xinwen ziyou daobao [Press Freedom Herald], November 30, 1989, p. 4.

12. CHINA AND AMERICA: BEYOND THE BIG CHILL*

Winston Lord

The Big Chill has descended over China. Sino-American rela­ tions are suffering. While we assess the ramifications, we must also look beyond the crisis and sketch blueprints for a warmer climate, for the present season will not long endure. For two decades, five American administrations, of both parties, have pursued positive relations with Beijing. They have done so with­ out illusions and with a firm grasp of the strategic and bilateral stakes. Only a small minority of Americans has opposed cooperation and they now point to recent events as vindication of their views. They have it exactly wrong. Not only has the United States derived enormous ben­ efits from this relationship, but in the process it has encouraged and strengthened the very forces for greater openness and freedom in China that shone so brightly last April and May. The fabric of our ties has shown impressive sturdiness since we first reopened the door in 1971. Both nations have weathered political earthquakes and tremors. Successive leaders in China and America, who have deeply disagreed among themselves on other issues, have all agreed it is in the national interest to expand bilateral bonds. Naturally there have been plateaus and detours during our jour­ ney. Now we are circling back as we confront the most treacherous terrain yet. It is to President Bush's great credit that he has sought to keep our longer-term interests in view even as we register our revul­ sion, as we must, at the sorry spectacle unfolding on the mainland.

II Let me begin on a personal note of profound sadness, for the trag­ edy inflicted on the Chinese people, for the dimming of Deng Xiao­ ping's vision in the twilight of his remarkable odyssey, for the necessity to address these issues. I do so with the anguish both of a professional who has for 20 years promoted Sino-American relations and as a friend of China's leaders. I subscribe to the virtue of sticking by old friends, especially when they are in difficulty, as the Chinese did, for example, with President

• Reprinted by permission of the Council on Foreign Relations, Inc., dated November 9, 1989, from Foreign Affairs, Vol. 68, No.4, Fall 1989, pp. 1-26. (229) 230 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

Nixon and Prime Minister of Japan. I have greatly admired the courageous, historic achievements of Deng and his associ­ ates. While I consider the encouragement of human rights an impor­ tant dimension of our foreign policy, I also weigh heavily the geopolitical and economic factors. As a former ambassador and hold­ ing many professional and personal ties to the Chinese, my strong nat­ ural impulse is to refrain from commenting on China's internal difficulties. Nevertheless I have spoken out strongly against the actions of the Chinese regime since the spring, as it proceeded from intransigence to massacre, from roundups to executions and repression, all cloaked in a most brazen display of the Big Lie. My condemnation has been harsh because I am appalled at what the Chinese government has done and continues to do--this is not merely scandal or corruption. I believe that especially those of us who have worked for Sino-American rela­ tions need to speak to-- and for-the vast legions of the Chinese peo­ ple, including not only those who are purged, vilified and silenced, but also those in leading positions who once more must swallow their con­ victions and regurgitate the current Party line. Surely these "old friends" deserve our loyalty more than the handful of those responsi­ ble for crushing Chinese spirits. I am persuaded that in the relatively near future there will once again be a Chinese regime composed of people with whom we can resume the forward march in our relationship.

III The most cold-blooded observer would have difficulty justifying the Chinese government's policies since June. If the students and their broad phalanx of supporters had used violence or set out to overthrow the Party, one could have understood a firm response. But for weeks the Chinese people displayed truly extraordinary moderation, disci­ pline and goodwill. In Beijing and other cities throughout the nation, huge numbers demonstrated daily without causing a single death or committing an act of violence. The authorities, whether by design or paralysis, also showed great restraint. Those on the streets chose the only avenues of expression open to them. They wished to work within the system, seeking gradual reform in the context of communist rule, indeed pro­ moting the very goals the Party had proclaimed. They petitioned for rights set forth in the Chinese constitution. At the beginning no one attacked the leadership or called for Western-style democracy. For weeks the students' platform boiled down to two concrete requests: an BEYOND THE BIG CHILL 231

acknowledgment that the demonstrators were patriotic and a dialogue between genuine student leaders and the political leaders. Meeting these two requests, as then Party Secretary Zhao Ziyang and many other leading figures were willing to do, would have defused the crisis. It would also have ushered in a new, hopeful chapter for China. There could have followed serious attacks on corruption, a freer press, the initiation of genuine exchanges between the authorities and the intellectual elites who were prepared, as always in Chinese history, to serve their nation. The inevitable transition pains of mov­ ing from one economic system to another could have been better un­ derstood and tolerated by the people. Possible solutions to complex issues could have been better aired in the media and among the elites. There could have evolved a greater sense of participation in decisions by the urban population. And all could have felt a greater sense of Party accountability. Instead, a few elders-fearing chaos or at least a slippery slope toward a Chinese "Solidarity" movement, defining stability as the sup­ pression of dissent instead of gradual reform, clinging to power above all - chose to squash the peaceful demonstration, to "kill chickens to scare monkeys" and to haul China back 20 years to terror and Orwel­ lian groupthink. There have been sickening replays of the Anti-Right­ ist Campaign and the Cultural Revolution: wholesale fabrications; exhortations to tum on one's fellow citizens; brainwashing in schools, offices and factories; widespread fear of speaking one's mind; and­ somewhat scaled down-the , studying the chair­ man's thoughts and blaming troubles on outside influence. In response to foreign condemnation, Beijing has started masking its reprisals. Executions and arrests are no longer trumpeted; foreign journalists are expelled; contacts for foreigners are frozen; the glare of the world's attention is all but extinguished. The regime strives to present a more benign face to the world through a controlled press, endless reiteration of lies and distortions and seizing upon technical errors in foreign reporting. Unfortunately, this has some effect in cer­ tain Western quarters. But for countless Chinese the nightmare of in­ terrogations, harassment, arrests, disappearances and indoctrination continues. The summer's events may not be as bloody as those in early June, but their range is wider, their effect more insidious. This is all the more tragic for having been unnecessary. There­ gime could have maintained, indeed enhanced, its authority and legiti­ macy through rather modest conciliatory gestures. Instead, an ossified leadership proved incapable of comprehending and adjusting to the social and political changes its own economic reforms had generated. 232 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

As a result, it has lost the "mandate of heaven" and radicalized some of the opposition. Former President Nixon-architect of the opening of China, a close friend of the Chinese leaders and no sentimentalist­ described the crackdown as not only "shockingly cruel" but also "in­ credibly stupid." As of this writing the regime's grip seems firm. But, as is seen so often in China and recently in other totalitarian states, the surface does not necessarily reflect reality. This spring [1989]'s movement was spontaneous and sweeping in its scope. It will be recorded as a major event in Chinese history. In cities throughout China not only students, workers and ordinary citizens, but Party and government of­ ficials, leading journalists, top think-tankers and innovative entrepre­ neurs joined in. These forces are the political cutting edge of China and precisely those sectors most crucial for reforms and the opening. The Chinese leadership cannot round up and shut up these people and at the same time hope to modernize the nation and obtain foreign assistance. The urban population may be temporarily cowed, but peo­ ple are angry, sullen and ready to tum to more enlightened leaders in the future. Furthermore, there are clear splits within the political leadership itself. Not only those who have been purged but many still holding official positions would have strongly preferred conciliation to crack­ down. Important elements of the Chinese military also spoke out against martial law and refused to move against the demonstrators. Some fell into line only out of personal loyalty to Deng. Many officers resented being dragged from their march toward professionalism back into politics; many harbor shame over the role of the People's Libera­ tion Army (PLA) in the June massacre. Economic pressures on the regime will intensify. Before this spring there were already serious problems: an overheated economy, inflation, unemployment, bottlenecks in energy, raw materials and transportation, and income disparities. Rampant nepotism and cor­ ruption were souring the populace. All of this has now been com­ pounded by the dislocation of recent months and the prospect of a more resentful, inefficient work force, spending long hours in sterile political sessions. Subsidies will be needed to keep urban workers and peasants quiet; in a nonproductive economy this will boost inflation even higher. We will see the stifling of initiative and the increased bucking of decisions to the top; normally cautious bureaucrats will be even more fearful of making politically incorrect decisions. Dealing with foreigners is riskier than ever. Key economic thinkers and actors have fled or are intimidated. BEYOND THE BIG CHILL 233

The crucial assistance provided by the outside world is being erased in reaction to what the communique of the recent economic summit in Paris referred to as China's "violent repression." Govern­ ment actions by the United States, Europe, Japan and others are sus­ pending military cooperation and slowing economic assistance, technology transfers and investment. International financial institu­ tions are postponing badly needed loans. There has been a severe im­ pact on the psyches as well as the wallets of Hong Kong, Taiwan and South Korea. Most important are the thousands of decisions by pri­ vate individuals around the world-businessmen cancelling or stretch­ ing out trade and investment projects; intellectuals freezing scientific, ·cultural and academic exchanges; tourists staying away from China in droves; and Chinese students, scientists and scholars refusing to return to their homeland. China's balance-of-payments position will be ex­ tremely shaky as key sources of foreign exchange dwindle sharply­ exports, foreign investment, tourism and loans. In a few brief months the Chinese leaders have lost the respect, confidence and credibility they had garnered during the past decade. Their assurances on a whole range of issues will not be as readily ac­ cepted. They have squandered their special standing in world affairs. They have shaken the view that China's entry into the international economic, security and intellectual systems should be encouraged and facilitated. All these forces will build against the strange and fragile coalition in Beijing, consisting of central actors whose age will soon sweep them from the stage, elder gurus who resist both reforms and outside intlu­ ence, opportunistic figureheads and closet moderates.

IV The best way to understand the reality in China today is to tum the official line upside down. For "the situation is stable" read the situation is precarious. For "broad consensus" substitute fierce disa­ greement. For "the people love the army" understand that the people hate the army units engaged in the suppression. "A small band" means massive numbers and "hooligans and ruffians" translates into law-abiding citizens from all walks of life. When a handful of people are shown on television turning in their neighbors to the authorities, millions of others are refusing to do so or are helping the hunted es­ cape. When Chinese are shown earnestly studying the chairman's speeches, they are really numb with boredom and cynicism. The au­ thorities vigorously proclaim the continuation of reforms and opening to the outside world. The reality is that ten years of heartening pro- 234 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

gress has been shattered in a few weeks, and China's drive for modern­ ization has been dealt savage body blows that will take years to heal. No one can predict how the Chinese panorama will unreel in the near term. Much depends on the sequence in which key aging leaders depart. The current discredited regime is clearly a transitional one. It is not clear how fully it can extend its writ to all comers of China, especially in the south near Hong Kong. There may be some interim shuffling of the political deck among hard-line coalitions. There will probably be future power struggles. It is at least possible that, echoing Chinese history, central authority will disintegrate and some form of regionalism will take hold. But we can be confident that, however grim the interlude, a more enlightened leadership will emerge within a few years. And we can be absolutely sure that when that day comes, the official Chinese line will manage to rewrite history once again. 1 Next time it will approximate the truth. The true criminals and the true martyrs will then be recog­ nized in party pronouncements-as they are already known by Chi­ nese urban dwellers and people around the world. In short, what we see in China today is not what we will see within a few years. As the British historian R.H. Tawney noted in 1931: "Political forces in China recall Chinese rivers. The pressure on the dam is enormous but unseen, and it is not till it bursts that the strain is realized." It may well tum out that the tragic events in China this year [1989] have foreshortened that great nation's march toward democ­ racy. The forecast had been for gradual, spasmodic progress toward a freer society, impelled by the demands of a more market-oriented economy and growing interaction with the world. Now, after exper­ iencing the giddy liberating weeks of last spring that preceded the great leap backward, the Chinese people may not settle for incremen­ tal advance. Once the hard-liners leave, we may see a more determined move toward pluralism and openness. To be sure, China will not become like a Western democracy. Like the Soviet Union and Eastern Europe it will face a perilous transition from one system to another. But by the end of the century the Chinese may well enjoy a freer press, a more highly developed legal system and a more open political process than would have been the case without the dark phase now being endured. As the current leaders themselves have said, the agony of the Cul-

l. In 1978 Deng himself insisted that the 1976 Tiananmen Square demonstrations supporting him be redefined as a popular uprising rather than as a counterrevolution. BEYOND THE BIG CHILL 235 tural Revolution made possible the decade of reform. It became clear that pragmatism and international cooperation had to replace ideolog­ ical frenzy and xenophobia. Chairman Deng, who together with his family was a victim of that madness, boldly led his nation on a new path. He himself repeatedly proclaimed the need for younger people to take over for the next phase of China's Long March. Sadly, he did not see this mission through. Had he succeeded, his historic legacy would not have been sullied by recent events. The current agony, like the Cultural Revolution, may well propel China forward again. It is clear that political reform must accompany economic reform. We now know that it is too much to expect the octogenarians to lead the country to new frontiers. It will require the fresh vision and flexibility of a younger generation. v What of the Big Chill's effect on relations with the United States? Certainly we are experiencing the most serious setback since 1971. American global diplomacy will be hampered, significantly in some areas. Many bilateral edifices, painstakingly constructed, have been tom down or left uncompleted. But since our mutual long-term inter­ ests remain and the bilateral foundations we have laid are broad, I believe the relationship will weather the shocks. Prudence, however, requires a careful assessment of the damage. On the international front, Moscow has predictably sought to make gains at Washington's expense by adopting a restrained attitude to­ ward China's brutal repression. On the heels of the May Sino-Soviet summit in Beijing, Mikhail Gorbachev has been deliberately currying favor with Chinese leaders, encouraging them to compare his "under­ standing" with the attitudes of the moralistic, meddlesome West, in particular the United States. The Middle Kingdom's prickly leaders are calibrating the tone of their relations with various countries according to their rhetorical and policy stances. Some key Chinese figures remain more comfortable with central planning than with market forces. Beijing may seek to unnerve the West by suggesting further movement toward Moscow. We will probably see more Sino-Soviet meetings, trade and exchanges, additional progress on their border negotiations and increased consul­ tation on regional conflicts. Such developments are not cost free, but neither should they be cause for undue concern. The same underlying limits to Sino-Soviet that existed before the Gorbachev-Deng meeting will remain. The 4,500-mile Sino-Soviet border-the site of past clashes 236 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES and restless, overlapping ethnic minorities-will not disappear. The Pacific Ocean that reassuringly separates China and America will not shrink. Chinese authorities may be very adept at rewriting history but they will not blot out tsarist territorial grabs or Soviet perfidies. Under Gorbachev, direct threats and tensions have eased. But the long-term geopolitical pressures of neighboring Soviet proxies and friends in Vietnam, , , Mongolia and North Korea will persist. Finally, Beijing's overwhelming preoccupation well into the next century will be economic development and modernization. Only the United States, Europe and Japan can provide the capital, technology, markets and managerial savvy that China urgently re­ quires. The Soviet Union's disastrous economy, lagging technology and limited barter trade provide no alternatives. Chinese leaders, of whatever stripe on domestic issues, are united in their basic world orientation. However intense their irritation with Washington, they will continue to take the long-range view toward security and development. The PLA is particularly suspicious of the Soviet Union; it will look forward to resuming cooperation with the United States and Western Europe. Beijing will not wish to further jeopardize Western cash and computers by excessive flirtation with Moscow. It is to the carefully built process of consultation on international issues that Washington's current estrangement from Beijing causes the most serious political damage. In recent years both countries have striven hard to broaden the scope of discussions, and both have reaped substantial dividends. America and China kept each other posted on their developing ties with the Soviet Union. Beijing provided constant reassurance, and Washington reflected Chinese (as well as Japanese and Korean) views in its final position on the Intermediate-range Nu­ clear Forces Treaty with Moscow, eliminating intermediate missiles in Asia as well as Europe. Due to America's energetic representations, China ceased sending Silkworm missiles to Iran and instilled confi­ dence that it would not ship intermediate ballistic missiles to others after its one-time deal with Saudi Arabia. For several years China has been shifting toward a responsible stance on nuclear nonproliferation. Despite significant commercial complexities, the United States agreed to launch American satellites on Chinese rockets. Both countries cooperated very closely on evict­ ing Soviet troops from Afghanistan. The Chinese moved somewhat toward the U.S. position that the be prevented from regaining power in . They facilitated direct dialogue be- BEYOND THE BIG CHILL 237 tween the United States and North Korea in Beijing and forged com­ mercial links with South Korea. For the first time in a century, Tokyo, Beijing and Washington have all enjoyed cordial relations with one another. At the United Nations, Chinese representatives were more cooperative on issues ranging from the to Namibia. The Chinese showed restraint on Central America. They cultivated ties with . Clearly Beijing made these various moves for its own reasons. Just as clearly, our exchanges at all levels have paid off in greater mu­ tual understanding and some adjustments in our respective positions. While the chill in our relations continues, we will lose the benefits of this process. Our direct influence on Chinese policies will shrivel. The pursuit of some of our international objectives will be more ardu­ ous. Problems on which we already have differences could become more acute and the tone of discourse could become nastier. Nevertheless Beijing will, as always, conduct an independent for­ eign policy based on hardheaded calculations. It will not alter its ap­ proach on key issues to spite the United States. The degree of Chinese warmth toward Moscow and Washington may shift- but not the fun­ damental geopolitical equations. History and geography will not change. Meanwhile, our two countries will continue to pursue compatible policies on certain issues, but generally in parallel, not in concert. They will result from independent assessments of respective national interests, not from steady consultations and mutual education. In the military sphere all sales, technology transfers, visits and exchanges are halted in their tracks. While some economic, commer­ cial and scientific exchanges continue, they decline sharply as trips and programs are cancelled or postponed. The suspension of all high-level government contacts aborts new official initiatives. Moreover, the great bulk of these activities are conducted in the private sector. Based on both practical and moral grounds, thousands of individual decisions every week are wiping out or stretching out trade deals, investment and scientific plans. In the cultural and aca­ demic areas, from ballet companies to art exhibits, from journalistic exchanges to student exchanges, a host of promising projects are dying or placed in cold storage.

VI Such are the by-products-costly to both sides-of the Chinese authorities' actions. The Bush Administration was given no choice but to express national outrage and halt cooperation in various fields. 238 CoNTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

American values and practical considerations dictated this response. Public opinion was rightly incensed through television exposure, and the views of key allies matched our own. It was also important-a point not widely noticed-to paint a precedent to advise Moscow, as it fashions its own responses to the Soviet internal stresses. At the same time the administration has wisely chosen to suspend rather than dismantle relationships. For a decade we have spun an impressive web of legislation, umbrella agreements and consultative mechanisms under which a broad range of visits and projects go for­ ward. While many of these activities are frozen, the frameworks re­ main. Cabinet secretaries do not travel to Beijing but joint commissions remain intact, pending resumption of efforts to increase trade and investment. Specific scientific programs are temporarily shelved but the basic protocols remain valid. Cultural and academic exchanges are canceled but the broad bilateral agreements are pre­ served for a more auspicious climate. One day we will once again learn from each other. This is a difficult period for government and private deci­ sionmakers alike. There is no clear road map as we feel our way through an ambiguous passage. We cannot practice business as usual; nor do we wish to destroy all the structures in place. We do not seek to hurt the Chinese people, but we also do not want to hand the lead­ ers photo-opportunities depicting normalcy. In this context it is difficult to generalize; an ad hoc approach is unavoidable. We face a period of sanctions, holding actions, carrots and sticks and damage limitation. If a Stalinist-type regime persists over time, we will have no choice but to hunker down and wait it out as best we can. It is certainly appropriate to cease cooperation in areas that carry strong symbolism, such as the military. This holds as well for those commercial or scientific projects that benefit the Chinese more than us or in cases where we have solid alternatives. Many areas, however, pose complex choices. We cannot expect American businesses to write off years of hard work and hard cash when they are playing for the long run in any event. If, in principle, the U.S. government forgoes extending special help to its private sec­ tor's efforts in China, what if foreign competitors were to exploit this restraint to their advantage? Moreover, it is not simply a matter of our policies but also the practical results of Chinese policies. In general, I would like to see academic and cultural ties maintained. But how can there be produc­ tive conferences with Chinese intellectuals when they are not free to express their real views? If Washington seeks to continue bringing fu- BEYOND THE BIG CHILL 239 ture Chinese leaders to the United States under auspices like the im­ mensely successful International Visitors Program of the U.S. Information Agency, will Beijing let them come? Should American scholars, such as those in the Fulbright program, continue to go to China, even if their access will be severely curtailed? Should cultural groups convey American art to eager audiences when they will be ex­ ploited by the Chinese media? The United States cannot fully restore ties with China until those responsible for the June debacle and its aftermath are no longer at the helm. In the meantime we face the practical question of how to con­ duct policy. The ingredients of U.S. policy should depend on the ac­ tions of the Beijing regime. It is impossible as well as unwise to draw up rigid standards or precise calibrations between actions by China and moves by the United States. Let me nevertheless sketch some cri­ teria to guide U.S. policy. Here are some suggestions of steps by the Chinese authorities that might invite positive responses: -[the] lifting [of] martial law in Beijing and Tibet;2 -cessation and rollback of the imprisonment, persecution and execution of the peaceful demonstrators and their supporters; -conciliatory gestures, tolerance of debate and genuine dia­ logue with the disaffected; -termination of the ideological campaigns against foreign ideas; -reopening of access to foreign media, including the Voice of America; -revival of foreign exchanges of students and others; -resumption of the commitment to economic and political reform; -restoration of a climate in which Chinese and foreign pro­ fessionals (journalists, businessmen, scholars and such) can meet international standards in their dealings on Chi­ nese soil; -confidence that U.S. presence and access in China does not endanger Chinese friends; -serious efforts by the Chinese government to acknowledge the damage it has done to its international credibility, for example, by renegotiating aspects of the draft fundamental law on Hong Kong's governance after 1997 now being considered by the National People's Congress;

2. Martial law in Beijing and Tibet was lifted in early 1990. 240 CoNTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

-evidence over a sustained time that China is honoring its previous statements on such issues as missile sales, nuclear nonproliferation, stability in Korea, progress toward a set­ tlement in Cambodia and patience on the Taiwan issue. 3 While we must not condone what has happened and is happening in China, we must not totally isolate the Chinese and rip out all the roots that we have so carefully nurtured. We need to find a way to balance our objectives of expressing near-term censure and holding open long-term cooperation with an enlightened leadership. While salvaging the framework, we must sustain indignation. In this process we should maintain contact with those who don masks but share our concerns. We should try to lighten the gloom for the Chinese people. The impact of our policies may be modest, but it will be magnified if we can preserve unity between Congress and the administration at home and cohesion with our allies abroad. To be sure, the revival of broad cooperation will not be automatic or facile even with a moderate government in the future. Scars will remain. Trust will have to be rebuilt. The assumption of long-term political stability in China that has grown during the past decade has been rudely shaken. Traders and investors will be more prone to hedge their bets and to swerve to other markets. Cultural and aca­ demic leaders will harbor uneasiness about future winds of xenopho­ bia. And China may have forfeited its special status in certain U.S. government projects. I believe nevertheless that there are grounds for longer-term opti­ mism. A vast network of official, professional and personal contacts has been created. The key Chinese interlocutors are precisely those elements who supported-and will support-the aspirations for a freer, more open society. They are shackled now from expressing their views and dealing with foreigners, but they are eager to resume coop­ eration and will do so once a progressive regime takes hold. History is on their side. Gone forever is the time when the Mid­ dle Kingdom could shut out the barbarians behind great walls of indif­ ference or condescension. Too many doors have been opened. Even hard-line leaders understand China's desperate need for foreign capi­ tal, technology and markets (indeed they have been avidly seeking to regain lost ground by trying to project an image of business as usual). No nation can prosper in the age of information and technology with­ out opening up within and to the world outside. No government prop-

3. I am indebted to Professor Michel Oksenberg of the University of Michigan for his thoughts on these criteria. BEYOND THE BIG CHILL 241

aganda can erase years of images of relative progress elsewhere around the globe--conveyed by television sets reaching over 800 million Chi­ nese, by millions of tourists, including overseas Chinese, by tho?sands of businessmen, scientists and scholars, and by the elite of China re­ turning from more promising lands. Americans in turn have every incentive to resume progress with China when conditions allow. A more moderate government in Bei­ jing will need-and deserve--outside cooperation. We should then move vigorously to energize a wide range of contacts and programs that are now on hold. This will not be a favor to China but rather to ourselves.

VII When this more hopeful time arrives, the fundamental chal­ lenges-and promises-that the United States and China faced in their relationship until the spring of 1989 will resurface: -to recast geopolitical cooperation in a more ambiguous world; -to expand economic links even while grappling with transitions; -to reap more fruit than friction from the mingling of two cultures. Let us look at the context and contours of a fully renewed rela­ tionship down the road, noting the transformation in the international landscape since the 1970s. After redressing the Soviet-American strategic balance in the early 1980s, Washington is now moving energetically with Moscow to reduce and stabilize arms across the spectrum. Facing immense problems at home and confronted by firmness abroad, Gorbachev seeks to cut the costs of Soviet foreign adventures. Both Washington and Beijing have taken advantage of these conditions to improve rela­ tions with Moscow. is thus blurred. As the relative positions of the superpowers decline in the mili­ tary sphere, new centers of wealth and stability emerge. China has asserted itself forcefully on this new world stage: increasing trade, selling arms, launching satellites and projecting power. Its domestic trauma and the international reaction are cramping Beijing's diplo­ macy right now. But this is transitory. With a more benign regime, China's full weight will once again be felt. Other trends, mostly positive, have radically altered the interna­ tional context of Sino-American relations. There has been movement 242 CoNTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES on several regional conflicts, Afghanistan and Cambodia, for instance. On the Korean peninsula, economic contacts and tentative dialogues have begun among the major outside powers and between North and South Korea. Fragile cease-fires are in place in the Persian Gulf and southwest Africa. In Central America and the Middle East, there is at least more fluidity. Dramatic reforms unfold in Eastern Europe. Finally, historic forces are shrinking the globe and loosening up many of its societies. We ride a scientific and information revolution. Countries receptive to new ideas and technologies forge ahead, while closed, controlled societies fall behind. Democracy and the market economy are gaining everywhere, while and Marxism are fading fast. Most of these trends should continue into the next century. They will inevitably affect how China and America relate and react to one another. Conventional wisdom holds that stra~egic factors in the Sino­ American relationship are dwindling in importance. I strongly disa­ gree. To be sure, this dimension will be more muted and nuanced than it was in the 1970s. But references to "triangles" and "cards" were misleading even then. While Beijing and Washington will seek further improvement in ties with Moscow, both capitals will also continue to share a stake in preserving global and regional balances. As Chairman Deng made clear to President Bush last February, the history and ge­ ography of Sino-Soviet and Sino-Japanese relations will not change. Nor will the traditional Chinese approach of balancing near powers with far powers. Nor will America's convictions that no country, or set of countries, should dominate Asia or the world, and that China's integrity is essential for world equilibrium. In this context, the United States and China should keep each other informed once again on their respective dealings with the Soviet Union, to prevent miscalculations and increase the prospects for inter­ national stability. Indochina will remain an area of tension, if not conflict, for many years. China and the United States share a strong interest in prevent­ ing Vietnamese domination of the region. Together with the Associa­ tion of Southeast Asian Nations and other interested countries, the United States should ensure that the Vietnamese truly evacuate Cam­ bodia and do not rule it by proxy. Washington will need to continue encouraging Beijing to support the noncommunist factions led by Prince and to exert its influence to control the Khmer Rouge. This will entail an eventual halt of Chinese aid to the Khmer Rouge; the Chinese might also provide exile to some of its most murderous leaders. BEYOND THE BIG CHILL 243

No easing of tensions in the Korean peninsula will be possible without China's constructive role. Washington should seek Beijing's ongoing contributions: restrain the North Koreans, increase ties with the South Koreans and abet the U.S. embryonic dialogue with Pyongyang. The situation in the South Asian subcontinent is particularly fluid. For years Washington worked intimately with Beijing to drive Soviet forces from Afghanistan. China and the United States are mod­ estly improving relations with India, while maintaining close links with . Nowhere is the risk of nuclear proliferation more acute than in the interplay among India, Pakistan and China. This complex terrain will require sustained Sino-American exchanges. Tokyo, Beijing and Washington have been building positive ties with each other. Japan will remain an important U.S. ally and most important friend in Asia. Washington should consult closely with To­ kyo about policy toward China so as to avoid shocks like those of the early 1970s. At the same time, it should strive to reduce suspicion and foster understanding among the three states. This process is crucial for regional stability, easing the transition that is being caused by Ja­ pan's economic juggernaut, emerging political influence and growing military clout. Chinese influence outside Asia is less central. It will demand at­ tention, however, given China's role in the United Nations, its more expansive diplomacy and its arms sales. Nowhere is this clearer than in the Middle East. China was moderately helpful in bringing about a cease-fire in the Persian Gulf. It has delivered huge amounts of weap­ ons, including ballistic missiles, to the area. It would play a part in a U.N.-sponsored Middle East peace conference. Other regional issues such as southern Africa and Central America would also benefit from steadier Sino-American dialogue. The most serious problem in bilateral relations during my tenure as ambassador was the sale of Chinese missiles to coun­ tries. Beijing had its reasons for resisting our representations: it gained international influence from the sales; its profits helped finance an impoverished PLA. No country willingly gives another a veto on its arms policy; China charged us with double standards in our ap­ proach to various countries, and its global arms sales were very mod­ est compared to ours, the Soviets' and the Europeans'. Yet, largely as a result of our persistent demarches and discussions, the Chinese took constructive actions. I regard these as prime examples of the tangible benefits to be derived from serious exchanges with China on interna­ tional topics. 244 CoNTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

This issue is far from settled, however. Numerous questions re­ main about defining intermediate missiles, unstable regions and unsa­ vory recipients. We face very real dangers that these destabilizing weapons will find their way into volatile areas. The arms trade is em­ phatically a global problem; we must work with a host of potential suppliers and recipients. China is crucial to any successful effort to stem the tide of proliferation. When conditions permit, the United States should search for new areas of cooperation. We have been heartened by recent Chinese col­ laboration in halting the flow of drugs. Increasing these joint efforts would not only help meet this problem but earn Beijing some sorely needed goodwill in America where drugs are a rampant plague. So too would Chinese efforts to help attack the scourge of international terrorism. Still another potential new area for beneficial exchange would be cleaning up the world's environment. vm On the international scene, therefore, China and the United States have been friends but not allies. Both countries share parallel interests and pursue compatible, if not collaborative, policies on many issues, especially in Asia. On other questions they disagree, sometimes fundamentally, sometimes on tactical approaches toward similar ends. Against this backdrop the United States gradually developed mil­ itary ties with China. This dimension is a natural component of a relationship expanding across the board. Neither country threatens the other, and both have been building friendly links in other sectors of their societies. The United States and China share common percep­ tions on the necessity for Asian and global military balances. Wash­ ington has judged a secure, modernizing and humanely governed China to be a force for stability. The Chinese have looked to the West to help their defense modernization. To be sure, the United States must be sensitive to the perceptions of others, whether in southeast Asia or across the Taiwan Straits. Beijing and Washington have some diverging national interests. Their domestic systems profoundly differ. Thus the United States has measured its tread. Military coopera­ tion has proceeded carefully on three tracks: high-level visits, func­ tional exchanges and technology transfers. Trips by defense ministers, chiefs of staffs and heads of services provide opportunities to discuss the geopolitical scene, give impetus to ongoing programs and map out future cooperation. Functional military exchanges implement agree­ ments reached at higher levels. The United States has shared informa­ tion in many fields ranging from strategy to tactics, from systems to BEYOND THE BIG CHILL 245

equipment and from medicine to academic training. U.S. and Chinese ships have visited each other's ports, and U.S. Thunderbirds have soared in Chinese skies. These exchanges represent the most impor­ tant aspect of defense cooperation between the United States and China; they forge mutual understanding, personal ties and constituen­ cies for a strong bilateral relationship. The United States has not pushed arms on the Chinese. On the contrary, it has considered their requests on a case-by-case basis and has turned aside many inquiries because of concern over exporting ad­ vanced technology or projection capability. U.S. military sales are strictly limited to defensive weapons, and to date they add up to about $800 million in long-term programs. In response to the events of June, President Bush correctly sin­ gled out the military relationship as the leading area in which to halt Sino-U.S. cooperation. This action was appropriate symbolically, be­ cause of the PLA's role in suppressing the demonstrators. And it pro­ vides possible leverage for those Chinese, including those in the military, who wish to follow a more moderate course--they can point to the loss of U.S. cooperation in the modernization of the PLA as one of the costs of a repressive policy. Presumably, military ties will be one of the last parts of the Sino­ U.S. relationship to return to its previous course. But when the United States again advances with China on a broad front, they will clearly serve U.S. interests. IX High on the Chinese political agenda is the question of Taiwan. The most senior American officials in successive administrations have pledged to abide by the three joint Sino-American communiques of the past two decades and adhere to the principle of one China. For years Beijing has urged Washington to promote reconcilia­ tion between the mainland and Taiwan. The United States has de­ murred, stating that this is a process that must be worked out peacefully by the two sides themselves. While the United States will therefore not advocate specific avenues of reconciliation, neither will it obstruct them; it has explicitly welcomed the remarkable surge in trade and contacts that has occurred in the past two years across the Taiwan Straits. The soundness of the U.S. position has been evident. There has recently been little tension between Beijing and Washington on this question, although it remains a matter of fundamental principle to the Chinese. Taiwan, feeling secure, has continued its astonishing eco- 246 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

nomic progress and initiated political reforms. There has been almost no debate in the United States. Meanwhile Taiwan and the mainland have been reaching out peacefully toward each other through the ex­ change of goods and people. It is still too early to assess the damage to Taiwan-mainland rela­ tions caused by the crackdown in China. Taipei has shown relative restraint. Beijing has made only modest attempts to accuse Taiwan of involvement in its turmoil. Nevertheless one could only expect the people of Taiwan to recoil from the ugly scenes they have witnessed on the mainland. It will be extremely difficult for future Chinese regimes to make close association appear inviting to those living elsewhere. The devastating impact on Hong Kong will cause further repercus­ sions in Taiwan. It would be a serious mistake to tamper with the balanced U.S. approach, which has enjoyed broad bipartisan support and has worked so well. For us to shift toward a two-China, or a one-China, one­ Taiwan policy could wreck our relations with the People's Republic. It could provide a dangerous situation in the Straits. It would undo the solemn undertakings of five presidents of contrasting ideologies. It would not find favor with the authorities in Taiwan who also subscribe to a one-China policy. Whether conservative or moderate, whatever their differences on other issues, the Chinese agree on one China-any Beijing leader would be obligated to downgrade, perhaps sever, rela­ tions with Washington were there a fundamental U.S. shift on the Tai­ wan question. To anyone who grasps the long-term importance of Sino-American relations the case for maintaining our successful pos­ ture on Taiwan is irrefutable. The events since June, however, pose fresh dilemmas for U.S. pol­ icy. Substantial numbers of understandably angry Chinese intellectu­ als and students are at war with their own government, seeking platforms in the United States, Europe, Hong Kong and elsewhere in Asia from which to pursue their struggle. The United States was able to reach a mutual accommodation with the Beijing government in the 1970s by promising, in effect, to disengage itself gradually and respon­ sibly from the dispute between Taiwan and the mainland. In return we expected the Chinese to pursue reconciliation by peaceful means alone. That has been the thrust of American policy ever since. In the months ahead, the United States faces a difficult balancing act. On the one hand, we must offer refuge and moral support to the Chinese who are threatened with political persecution due to their be­ liefs, and we must adhere to our obligations toward the people in Tai- BEYOND THE BIG CHILL 247 wan. On the other hand, we should not inadvertently become deeply engaged in Chinese domestic politics.

X It is a melancholy irony that 1988, just before the Chinese great leap backward, was the most positive year ever in Sino-American eco­ nomic relations. Bilateral trade jumped forty percent to exceed $14 billion. Agricultural exports from the United States doubled to $1.2 billion. China was becoming our leading overseas market for wheat. The P.R.C. became our thirteenth-largest trading partner; the United States was China's second-largest export market. American invest­ ment leapt from 400 to 630 projects. With some $3.5 billion commit­ ted to China, the United States was the top outside investor after Hong Kong. Certainly there remained substantial obstacles to trade and in­ vestment, and Beijing's decisions in the summer of 1988 to cool the economy and postpone reforms were casting shadows. Nevertheless, a series of negotiations and agreements was laying the groundwork for further expansion. After being stalled for years, the United States and China broke through to a maritime agreement. Progress was made on updating our civil aviation accord. With our allies in the Coordinating Committee for Multilateral Export Controls, we were steadily easing controls over technology exports and were ready to extend a distribu­ tion licensing system to China. The Chinese were significantly im­ proving their investment climate and were at last beginning to move on protecting intellectual property rights. We were engaged in con­ structive talks concerning China's application for membership in the General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade. This very promising advance in our economic relations has been aborted for both practical and moral reasons. But as the United States waits for a more benevolent climate, we can already identify our longer-term objectives. When China resumes its difficult transition from central planning to market forces, we should encourage its reforms while recognizing that their ultimate success depends on the Chinese themselves. Our efforts in trade, technology and investment help China modernize and become stronger. Some question whether this bodes well for the United States. To be sure, a more powerful China will present fresh challenges, espe­ cially for its neighbors. But it is decidedly in our interest to participate in its development, and we should not leave the field to others. A prosperous and stable China will be less subject to outside pressures 248 CoNTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES and in a better position to help maintain a multipolar balance in Asia. A China engaged in international markets and institutions will have greater incentives to pursue a responsible foreign policy. With these considerations in mind-and when the Chinese make it possible--we will want to revive a broad economic relationship. For our part this will include keeping open U.S. markets to Chinese goods, transferring technology and encouraging China's participation in the global economy. For its part, a more enlightened Chinese regime will have to work hard to attract foreign technology, capital and management skills. The wounds of 1989 will not heal quickly. American companies will be looking hard before leaping into investments. Beyond meeting the necessary humane standards in their political system, Chinese authori­ ties will need to resume the momentum toward a pluralistic market economy and a trade and investment climate that is clear, fair and sure. To these ends key moves will be: reducing high tariffs and im­ port barriers; loosening controls over foreign exchange and import licenses; allowing competition in the services sector; streamlining bu­ reaucracy; ensuring consistent implementation of agreements. The most difficult requirement for the Chinese, especially for its elder leaders, may be to recognize that it cannot expect to attract and exploit international science while excluding outside ideas. For much of its recent history, China has attempted to gain foreign knowledge without being contaminated by foreign culture. During the past 150 years this has proven to be very difficult. During the past decade of reforms and opening to the world, the Chinese leaders have sought to stamp out unsettling Western influences at three different times-the tearing down of Democracy Wall in 1979, the attack on "spiritual pol­ lution" in 1983 and the "anti-bourgeois liberalization" campaign of 1987. Now they are at it again-banning books, shutting out the world media, hounding those "infected" by Western concepts, step­ ping up political "education" on campuses and in the work places. Today, in the age of information and telecommunications, gallop­ ing technology and increasing interdependence, such an approach is impossible. No country can prosper without opening up within its borders and to the outside world. It is not a question of "Westerniza­ tion" but rather the imperatives of modernization. China cannot sim­ ply import gadgets and boost productivity without applying modern management techniques. Students and scientists returning from abroad will carry back values as well as knowledge. The loosening and opening up of Chinese society will be essential not only for eco­ nomic progress but also for political stability. For as millions of Chi- BEYOND THE BIG CHILL 249

nese so vividly demonstrated once again this past spring, men and women do not live by rice alone. XI The events of 1989 painfully illustrate that the most profound challenge in dealing with China will be in the cultural realm. For most of our history, Americans and Chinese viewed each other through veils of rhetoric and sentiment. During the past two decades expanded contacts between our societies began to increase mutual understanding. Artists and experts, teachers and tourists were crisscrossing the Pacific in increasing numbers. Thirty protocols on science and tech­ nology exchanges constituted the largest such program that either of us had with any other country. There were over 40,000 Chinese stu­ dents on American campuses by the end of 1988, more than half of all those sent abroad. Hundreds of American scholars and students were teaching and studying in China. Weekly Sino-American conferences examined a wide range of topics, ranging from law to the stock market to the U.S. Congress. We were rapidly increasing cultural exchanges, our access to Chinese television and radio and the publication of American books in Chinese. More than 300,000 American tourists visited China yearly. After years of effort, and just two weeks before leaving Beijing in April 1989, I signed an agreement with the Chinese that would have sent Peace Corps volunteers for the first time ever to a communist country. This project, like so many others, hangs in suspense. This extensive process, largely carried on by the private sector, was fostering a more enlightened appreciation of each other's histories, societies and systems. But it was highlighting some sharply different values as well. Cultural and academic exchanges have mutually en­ riched both countries. At the same time, closer scrutiny was spawning tensions and frictions well before Beijing's actions all but ruptured the growing links. Believers in freedom, Americans chafe at controls, whether on Tibetan monks, prospective mothers or outspoken dissidents. As a na­ tion of immigrants, our concern for human rights is natural and uni­ versal. We have never singled out China. Indeed there has been a rising chorus of complaints in the United States about an alleged double standard between our vigorous espousal of human rights in the Soviet Union and our more muted approach toward China. Presumably a more moderate government will allow intellectual "flowers" to bloom, tolerate dissent, move toward a freer press and 250 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES further develop a legal system to protect individual rights. Presuma­ bly its leaders will not create a major bilateral crisis when future visit­ ing American officials invite dissidents to banquets. Even under a more progressive regime, however, China will be very sensitive on human rights. The world's oldest, richest civilization does not take kindly to outside advice. Chinese leaders, who have always feared chaos, will be wary of a rapid rush toward democracy. As commu­ nists, they will fear loss of Party control. Some see crime, homeless­ ness and drugs as the costs of excessive freedom. The Chinese do not raise human rights in their dealings with any country. Since they do not seek to impose their concepts on the United States, they resent what they perceive as our attempt to do so on them. Human rights abuses and martial law in Tibet predated the Chi­ nese crackdown in Beijing and elsewhere. Lacking access to the area and without media coverage, we can only glumly imagine what has been transpiring in that remote region. Until recently Beijing had taken some positive steps to improve the religious and economic con­ ditions in Tibet, but there was also continuing cultural arrogance, harsh suppression of dissent and mistreatment of prisoners. Whatever our anguish for Tibetans, the United States will need to continue to recognize that Tibet is part of China. This is not only our long-standing policy but that of all governments in the world. En­ couraging Tibetan independence would be quixotic. There is a solid consensus among Chinese that they cannot and will not grant it be­ cause of sovereignty, security and the implications for other nationali­ ties in China. Fanning independence fever would also be a cruel incitement to the Tibetan people, given China's overwhelming power and control in the area. The Dalai Lama himself has stopped short of demanding independence. Thus adherence to the recognition of Chinese sovereignty over Tibet is a prerequisite for engaging the Chinese constructively on the broader issues. We must continue to press China for moderation in Tibet and for access to outsiders. Our best route will be to support negotiations between Beijing and the Dalai Lama. Progress toward greater autonomy under Chinese authority will be required for the Tibetans to enjoy a happier fate and for Sino-American tensions to subside. Beijing's population policy will be another continuing source of friction. Americans need to comprehend that China confronts the most dramatic Malthusian dilemma in world history: a young and mushrooming population, already more than a billion people weak, living on a land that is only one-tenth arable and three-quarters urban BEYOND THE BIG CHILL 251

sprawl, mountains and sand. Unrestrained population growth would doom China's future. The Chinese in turn need to understand that, while Americans disagree passionately on the subject of abortion, they find forced abor­ tions and sterilization abhorrent in any country. While Beijing's offi­ cial policy prohibits coercion, its infrequent punishment of abuses is far from credible or effective. A concerted Chinese effort to root out coercion will be necessary to regain American assistance. It will be difficult, but it should not be impossible, to find a way to help China's family-planning policy without either compromising our values or im­ posing them. The United States should encourage progress in these various ar­ eas of human rights with a judicious mix of policies. We can provide practical assistance through exchanges and conferences in certain ar­ eas, such as developing legal institutions and a more responsible press. We should welcome advances as well as censure backsliding. We should pursue policies, including quiet diplomacy, that promote real progress rather than mere visceral satisfaction. We should recognize that the Chinese face genuine problems of economic development, sta­ bility and balance of central control with local initiative. We should not expect instant breakthroughs or American models. We should gear our attitude to relative movement and not to snapshots that do not measure up to our ideals. And we must continue to consider our major geopolitical and economic interests with China in tandem with our pursuit of human rights. For their part, the Chinese must have surely learned this year that the violation of human rights is costly not only in terms of world opinion but also world cooperation.

XII For the Chinese people above all, we must hope that the Big Chill is soon lifted. In my view the question is when, not whether. Former President Reagan put it· best: "You cannot massacre an idea." We witnessed China's future not in those grim nights in June but rather in the heady days of April and May. When those days return, Americans should be prepared fully to resume the journey with that great nation. It will not be easy to keep a balanced perspective; it never has been for Americans. George Ken­ n~ once observed that "If we a~e .to regard ourselves as a grownup natlon ... then we must, as the btbhcal phrase goes, put away childish things; and . . . the first to go . . . should be self-idealization and the 252 CoNTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES search for absolutes in world affairs: for absolute security, absolute amity, absolute harmony." That injunction captures the primary challenge in our China pol­ icy. The current course is full of ambiguities and tough decisions. Our strategic imperative is to preserve a long-term relationship. Our moral imperative is to project our principles as we survive this cold season of suppression. Even when a warmer climate returns, the journey will be com­ plex. Our two nations will share important security concerns, but we will not be allies, and we will differ on many international issues. We will strengthen ties of amity. But we will face inevitable tensions as we mesh two continental giants with vastly contrasting histories, cultures, stages of development and values. We will cultivate cooperation. But we can hardly hope for harmony. This may seem an obvious precept for relations with almost any country. It has not, however, been applied for most of America's past history with China. American perspectives toward that nation have swung between romance and hostility. We have held wildly fluctuat­ ing images-the evil Fu Manchu, the noble peasant of Pearl Buck. During just the past half century, the Chinese have appeared, succes­ sively, as beleaguered allies and implacable foes, as yellow hordes, red guards and blue ants, the angelic Maoist man and the diabolical Gang of Four, budding capitalists adorning magazine covers and beastly communists crushing students. We need a steadier vision. Both in our attitudes and in our poli­ cies, we must incorporate the Chinese yin and yang of opposites form­ ing a whole. In recent years, thanks to expanding links, we have traveled far. Americans were becoming more clear-eyed toward China, discarding both red herrings and rose-colored glasses. In recent months, thanks to television images, we have traveled farther. Americans have seen the two faces of China. Beyond the Big Chill, our challenge will be formidable. So will the stakes- for Chinese, for Americans, and for this planet's prospects in the 21st century. 13. THE IMPACI OF TIANANMEN ON THE CHINESE ECONOMY

Chu-yuan Cheng

Economic conditions in the People's Republic of China (PRC) since the June 4, 1989, bloodshed in and around Tiananmen Square have rapidly deteriorated. Although the rampant inflation showed signs of subsiding, industrial output and the GNP slipped into stagna­ tion in the fourth quarter of 1989 and fell sharply in January 1990. The economic crisis is partly the result of the austerity policies pur­ sued by the hardliners since September 1988, but the events in Tiananmen Square exert profound impact on every aspect of economic life in China.

ECONOMIC CONDITIONS PRIOR TO THE TIANANMEN INCIDENT China's economy was in a shambles even before the pro-democ­ racy movement. China's economic problems, among others, contrib­ uted to the 1989 student uprising. Inflation rates kept rising in the latter part of 1988 and accelerated in the first half of 1989. The annual inflation rate of 1988 was officially reported at 18.5 percent. For food prices, the rate exceeded 50 percent. In September, 1988, the Beijing authorities adopted a retrenchment program, deciding to cut invest­ ment and the money supply in the hope that the inflation rate could be contained below 10 percent in 1989. However, in the first half of 1989, the rate soared another 25.5 percent over the preceding period. For major cities, the inflation rate exceeded 40 percent. Fixed income ur­ ban residents suffered the most from inflation. In 1988, 34 percent of urban dwellers found their real income declining. One pivotal barometer is the rising share of consumer expendi­ ture on food in recent years. In most advanced countries, food occu­ pies about 25 percent of consumer spending. In 1978, prior to the adoption of economic reforms, expenditure on food amounted to 60 percent of the workers' total expenditure in China. Between 1979 and 1985, as people's income rose while food prices remained stable, the share for food declined steadily to only 42 percent. Since 1985, the situation began to reverse with food prices climbing rapidly and real income falling. By 1987, the food share rose to 55 percent and by 1988 to 60 percent again. This indicates that the benefits of the reform in (253) 254 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES the earlier years have been completely negated. The return to the pre­ reform level of expenditure has frustrated most urban dwellers. 1 Unemployment is another intractable problem. For years, the Chinese government used the term "awaiting employment" (dai ye) to refer to unemployed people. In recent years, official statistics began to report an unemployment rate which was so low (1.5 to 2 percent) that no one believed its reliability. In 1988, the official news media began publishing a series of surveys which showed that 30 million workers and employees were "latently unemployed." This refers to those peo­ ple who are officially employed but lacking job assignments. As China's new labor force increases at a rate of 20 million people per year, those who cannot get into the state enterprises can only be hired as temporary workers at low pay. Unemployed people travel from one city to another seeking job opportunities and creating a 50 million strong "fluid population," who possess neither job nor home. They generally sleep in railway stations, parks and urban slums, causing problems for public traffic and social order. In contrast to the misery of ordinary people, those with official connections can easily locate high-paying jobs. Once a person occu­ pies such a position, his family members and relatives will slip in and form a net of personnel who protect each other and engage in un­ checked corruption. This kind of corruption was facilitated by the economic reform which delegated control power from the central gov­ ernment to local authorities and set up a dual-price system. The coun­ try's privileged class took advantage of the relaxation of controls and the dual-price system to engage in illegal activities. Many Party, gov­ ernment and military institutions and cadres and their children swarmed forward to do business. In 1988 alone, some 180,000 specu­ lating companies were set up by government officials and their rela­ tives. These companies engaged in all sorts of criminal activities, such as speculation, smuggling and offering or taking bribes. One of these companies, the Kang-Hua Company, was managed by , son of Deng Xiaoping. Moreover, under the dual-price system, people with special con­ nections can buy one ton of steel at the official price of 700 yuan and immediately resell it at the market price of 2, 100 yuan. The price sys­ tem created many instant millionaires. The prevalence of guan dao (official speculation) has significantly raised the price of raw materials

1. Wu Hanzhi, "An Analysis of the Cause of Inflation and Its Control," Jingji yu Guan/i Yanjiu (Study on Economics and Management) (Beijing), No. 2, 1989, pp. 1-4. IMPACT OF TIANANMEN 255

and thereby injected an element of "cost-push" into the rampant inflation. As part of the reform, the government encouraged a segment of the population to enrich themselves, hoping that their affiuence might stimulate others to emulate them. The new policy led to the emer­ gence of many 10,000-yuan farm families (annual income exceeds 10,000 yuan). The rise of an affiuent peasant class and the expansion of u new privileged class markedly widened the income disparities among various segments of the population and caused mounting social conflicts. 2 The root of these social and economic problems lies in the one­ party authoritarian system. The popular demand for democratization, for curtailing the special privileges of the , was so strong that when the students in the Beijing area raised the banner of "Down with corruption," "Down with guandao," and called for freedom and de­ mocracy, they won the hearts of the people and formed a formidable united front confronting the regime.

INITIAL IMPACT OF THE BLOODSHED When the Li Peng administration ordered the PLA to suppress the unarmed protesters, the reaction of the civilized countries was un­ precedented. The initial impact of the crackdown on the Chinese economy involved four major aspects: the suspension of foreign loans; the canceling of foreign direct investment; the loss of tourist revenue and the sharp rise of the budget deficit. The first major consequence was world-wide economic sanctions. Angered by the violence, Western governments and aid agencies delayed or restricted loans. The , China's major source of interest-free and low-interest loans since 1980, announced on the suspension of $780 million in new loans to China. During the past 9 years, the World Bank provided loans totalling $8.5 billion of which $3.44 billion was interest-free. One-third of these loans were used for agricultural and industrial development. The government of Japan also decided in mid-June to postpone a 7-year, $5.8 billion new loan to China. For a country starved for technical know-how and basic infra­ structure, the suspension of foreign loans has been a severe blow. Direct investment has also been suspended or canceled. Immedi­ ately after the crackdown, most American, European, and Japanese businessmen in Beijing and Shanghai opted to evacuate. By the end of

2. For details see Chu-yuan Cheng, Behind the Tiananmen Massacre: Social, Political and Economic Ferment in China, (Boulder, Col.: Westview Press, 1990), Chapter 2. 256 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

September, more than 50 percent of them had not returned. As a re­ sult, many new investment plans either were delayed or outright aban­ doned. For instance, Peugeot SA and Pepsi Co., Inc., postponed expanding their separate joint-venture factories in southern China. According to one Western trade official, five Fortune-500 companies had had plans to invest a total of $650 million in China operations, but because of the worsening economic and political outlook, only one of the five still plans to proceed. A Japanese trade official estimates that Japanese companies will invest less than half the $200 million they had committed in 1988.3 The impact of Tiananmen on China's burgeoning tourist industry has been devastating. Before the massacre, China derived about $2.2 billion a year from tourism. As a million Taiwanese and several mil­ lion Hong Kong and overseas Chinese visited their hometowns in re­ cent years, tourism became a crucial source of foreign exchange. The bloodshed in Beijing took a clear toll on travel-related business. Be­ tween July 1 and December 31, China had been expecting over a mil­ lion overseas tourists, but the violence frightened off foreign visitors. Figures released by the Chinese National Tourism Administration in early September, 1989, report an 81 percent decline in visitors.4 It was officially reported that the revenue of tourist business in 1989 was $1.8 billion, $400 million less than the previous year and $1.2 billion below the original target for 1989. The massacre also increased government expenditures and raised the budget deficit. As the government now relies on the Army's sup­ port, military expenditures began to rise. Since 1979, the growth rate of the defense budget for each year has been below the expenditure for that year. The share of the defense budget in total government spend­ ing declined sharply from 26.1 percent in 1968 to 17.5 percent in 1979 to only 8.6 percent in 1986. The yearly drops have incensed military leaders. Now as the army has resumed the critical role of king-maker, they have begun to demand a larger share of the budget be devoted to defense. In 1989, the share rose to 13.9 percent of total expenditure, up 11.2 percent. The defense budget showed another 15 percent in­ crease in 1990, reversing the decade-long decline. This will undoubt­ edly widen the budget deficit. 5 Moreover, as the controlling of inflation is not as effective as promised, in order to calm the popular discontent, the government

3. New York Times, July 3, 1989, p. 21. 4. Anne T. Thurston, "Back to Square One?", China Business Review, Sept.-Oct. 1989, pp. 36-41. 5. China Times (Taipei), January 24, 1990, p. 9. IMPACT OF TIANANMEN 257

may have to raise food subsidies that now run at 40 billion yuan a year and constitute the biggest burden on the government budget.

mE LONGER-TERM IMPACf ON mE ECONOMY The longer-term consequences are more profound. The far­ reaching effect is the destruction of the reform leadership. The purge of reform leader Zhao Ziyang and the entire group of his intellectual advisers signals the scrapping of most programs Zhao and his follow­ ers have pursued in the past several years. In the middle of August, the three influential "think tanks" of the reformers-the Rural Devel­ opment Research Center of the State Council; the Economic Struc­ tural Reform Research Institute of the State Council; and the Economic, Technical and Social Development Center of the State Council are all slated for abolition. Of the 130 members of the Eco­ nomic Structural Reform Research Institute, more than 20 went into exile, eight high-ranking officers were arrested, the remainder were either reassigned to other jobs or sent to labor camps. As , Prime Minister of Singapore observed: It took Zhao Ziyang ten years to build a team of economists who understood how the Western economies work and now that team is part in exile, part being rusticated and part miss­ ing. Rebuilding that team will take another 10 years. That's very sad for China and for Asia. 6 Not only is the brain-trust of the reform camp lost, the entire reform program is halted. Although the leadership repeatedly stressed that there would be no change in the policies of reform, many reform programs were either suspended or preparing to be dismantled. In the second half of 1989 and early 1990, major changes could be discerned in four areas: (1) Price reform-In the October 1984 Decisions on Economic Reform, the reform of the irrational price system was touted as the key to institutional transformation. In May 1988, with Deng's en­ dorsement, Zhao proposed the bold solution of decontrolling prices. The populace responded with panic buying, which forced the govern­ ment to rescind the policy. Since then, economic decision-making power has fallen into the hands of Premier Li Peng and Vice Premier Y ao Yilin, two conservative leaders. Steps were taken to reimpose price controls for steel, copper, aluminum, and other basic materials. After the June 4 bloodshed, government officials reasserted centralized

6. Wall Street Journal, November 1, 1989, p. A15. 258 CoNTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

control over major segments of the Chinese economy. Fan Weizhong, Deputy Director of the State Planning Commission, indicated that the important role of central planning would be restored in the process of retrenchment. 7 (2) Stock Ownership-In fall 1988, the reformers tried to keep the reform program alive by proposing the sale of state enterprise stock to workers and employees. The plan was condemned by the hardliners as a betrayal of socialism. In fall 1989, Party newspapers even blamed proponents of the stock ownership idea for fueling the student unrest. The plan is likely to remain in abeyance. (3) Private Business-During the 1978-1988 period, the number of private businesses had grown rapidly, rising from 100,000 to 14.5 million, employing 23 million people. It was one of the most dynamic sectors of the Chinese economy. After the conservatives took the helm, individual businesses began to dwindle. In the first half of 1989, they fell by 2.4 million. After the June 4 crackdown, the new leader­ ship has initiated an inspection program to regulate individual busi­ ness. The fate of the individual business is once again at stake. (4) Income Distribution-Under Mao's rule, the PRC adopted an egalitarian system of income distribution, which dampened individ­ ual incentive and motivation. When Deng launched the economic re­ form program, he initiated a policy that would allow some people to become affluent before others. The new policy was responsible for the emergence of many of 10,000-yuan families in the rural areas and tens of thousands of well-to-do businessmen in the cities. The rise of the new wealthy class inevitably increased disparities in income distribu­ tion. After Shanghai CPC Secretary Jiang Zemin replaced, in June, 1989, Zhao Ziyang as CPC General Secretary, he vowed to remedy this situation. Not only did he avoid mentioning Deng's policy of en­ couraging enrichment of a few first, but he also identified self-em­ ployed traders and peddlers as the source of rising income disparities. 8 From these new measures, it is quite clear that the reform policy, while continuously being upheld in official statements, bas lost its vi­ tality. In contrast, Deng's open-door policy has received support from the hardliners as the means to solve the country's capital shortage. Li Peng bas on many occasions emphasized the importance of the open

7. Japan External Trade Organization China Newsletter, No. 84, Jan.-Feb. 1990, pp. S-6. 8. Jiang Zemin, "Seriously Eliminating the Inequitable Distribution of Income," Qiu shi (Seeking Truth), No. 12, 1989, pp. 5-9. IMPACT OF TIANANMEN 259

door. However, the June 4 bloodshed dealt a severe blow to China's economic cooperation with foreign countries. One clear indication is the deterioration of relations with Hong Kong. In recent years, Hong Kong has been China's number one trade partner and the chief supplier of foreign exchange. In 1988, Hong Kong's trade with China exceeded $30 billion, surpassing China's trade with Japan ($19 billion) and with Western Europe ($21.8 billion). More importantly, under China's new open-door pol­ icy, Hong Kong has in the past couple years invested $7 billion in province, creating job opportunities for 1.5 million work­ ers. Prior to the unrest, Hong Kong businessmen had conceived sev­ eral major investment plans in South China, including electrical power plants, a super highway, and a new airport. The bloodshed near Tiananmen Square shattered these plans. Since the imposition of mar­ tial law in Beijing, the prices of stock and real estate in Hong Kong have dropped by more than 20 percent. The loss of confidence in Bei­ jing's "one country, two systems" formula for Hong Kong after its return to China in 1997 has accelerated the flight of capital and profes­ sional manpower. When businesses in Hong Kong lost their zeal, the injection of capital into South China was substantially reduced. The Tiananmen Incident also signalled an end to the boom in Western and Japanese direct investment in China that began in 1988 and continued into the first half of 1989. Foreign direct investment interest was fueled by Zhao Ziyang's coastal development strategy and the decisions to raise to the status of a province and designate it a special economic zone. In 1988, foreign investors committed $5.3 billion in direct investment to a total of 5,924 projects in China. These figures were 42.9 percent and 166.2 percent higher than the previous year. The June 4 massacre halted this advance. In the 3 months (July-September) following the Tiananmen Incident, there was a 20 percent decline in direct investment. The halting of fresh foreign capi­ tal inflow reflects apprehension about China's debt situation and its economic health as well as fears of political instability. 9

FUTURE PROSPECfS In view of these developments, the June 4 massacre has aggra­ vated those economic maladies existing before the turmoil and added other new ones. The new leadership is confronted with several thorny problems.

9. "Direct Investment in China Losing Momentum," China Newsletter, No. 84, Jan.­ Feb. 1990, pp. 17-21. 260 CoNTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

First, the loss of foreign loans and revenue from tourism have drained the meager foreign exchange reserves. By the end of 1989, China had incurred foreign debts totalling $44 billion. About 50 per­ cent of the debt was financed by Japan and denominated in Japanese yen. As China's foreign trade is calculated in U.S. dollars, the 50 per­ cent appreciation of the yen against the dollar in the past four years has substantially increased the debt burden, which must be repaid in 1992 and 1993. It is officially estimated that by 1993, the repayment of principal and interest on foreign debt will account for 25 percent of China's total exports, surpassing the 20 percent warning level set up by the International Monetary Fund. This will further limit China's capacity to invest in infrastructure. Second, since 1979, China's Central Government budget has suf­ fered deficits for almost every year, with an accumulated deficit of 160 billion yuan. One of the major sources of deficit has been the increas­ ing state subsidies to prices and enterprises operating at a loss. In 1989, these two items reached a record high of 106 billion yuan ($28 billion), accounting for 32.6 percent of the total budget. 10 Increase of defense spending and price subsidies will further enlarge the deficit. The result will be the expansion of the money supply, making the con­ trol of inflation extremely difficult. Third, the repayment of foreign debts and the rising burden in subsidies will diminish the country's capacity to remove the bottleneck in the energy supply and transportation facilities, two limiting factors on the Chinese economy. Due to the critical shortage of electricity, many state enterprises presently operate only three or four days a week. 11 A recent official report indicates that the shortfall of electric­ ity now stands at 60 billion to 70 billion KWH per year, affecting one­ third of industrial capacity. The loss of industrial output value is esti­ mated at 200 billion yuan. 12 Power shortages also become a major detriment to foreign investors. In Shenzhen, the showcase of special economic zones, power failures have shut down factories as often as four times a week. Finally, the purge of hundreds of social scientists, particularly economists, has deprived the country of the service of its best brains. In the wake of the bloodshed, most of the measures announced by the new general secretary simply replay threadbare policies implemented in the 1950s and 1960s. Old slogans like "Learning from Lei Feng,"

10. International Daily News (Los Angeles), July 29, 1989, p. 13. II. China Daily News (New York), July 25, 1989, p. 6. 12. Renmin Ribao, January 18, 1990, p. 3. IMPACT OF TIANANMEN 261 and "Industry learning from ," which have been out of fashion for a decade, all returned to prominence again. Since September 1989, a new nationwide campaign to "learn from Lei Feng" has been in full swing. Lei Feng, an obscure soldier who died in an accident in 1962, was sanctified by Mao as a paragon of communist virtues in a cam­ paign to emulate him. After the economic reform, instead of praising hardship and suffering, the new Party policy was to promote competi­ tion and innovation, to let some people become rich first; pure self­ sacrifice like that of Lei Feng was no longer considered a virtue. How­ ever, after the pro-democracy movement, the old hardliners quickly restarted the "Learning from Lei Feng" campaign. All these factors indicate that, instead of carrying the reform program forward, the new leadership in Beijing is in fact trying to tum the clock back. If China's contradictory economic program is not untangled and if the people's incentive and productivity are not revived, stagnation, inflation and shortages will grow worse. The rising popular discontent may precipitate the downfall of the hardline government.

14. TIANANMEN AND ITS IMPACf

Winston L. Y. Yang Seton Hall University

China's struggle for democracy had begun long before the 1989 student movement. In December, 1978, a electrician named Wei Jingsheng, a native of Anhui Province born in 1950, began an underground publication, Exploration (Tan Shuo ). 1 Originally a single sheet posted on Xidan Wall, known as "Democracy Wall" to the Chinese and later abolished by the Chinese authorities, Explora­ tion urged the Chinese Communist leadership to expand China's "four modernization" program to include "political modernization" designed to achieve democratization. 2 The mimeographed magazine published many articles that exposed serious and extensive human rights violations in China and advocated fundamental political re­ forms. Wei's activities, though well received by Chinese students and intellectuals, soon attracted the attention of the government, which arrested him on March 29, 1979. After a brief trial at a Beijing court, he was sentenced to 15 years' imprisonment for his alleged crimes of providing a foreigner with Chinese military intelligence and carrying out "counterrevolutionary agitation. " 3 Even though his conviction brought an end to this early democ­ racy movement, Wei's democracy drive had stimulated the Chinese people, especially students and intellectuals, and helped them develop a better understanding of China's need for political liberalization. After Wei's sentencing, however, China began a series of sweep­ ing economic reforms, including an "open-door" policy, which helped the Chinese, especially those in the rural areas, improve their standard of living.

l. See Fox Butterfield, "Imprisoned Chinese Dissident Leader, Wei Jingsheng," The New York Times, October 20, 1979, p. 9. In preparing this article, I have consulted many Chinese sources even though few of them will be cited. Chinese sources published outside China seem too numerous to cite. My bibliographical review of Chinese sources will be completed and published soon. 2. Ibid. Part of an article by Wei entitled "The Fifth Modernization-Democracy and Others," is translated in "China Clamps Down on Dissidents," The Asian Wall Street Journal Weekly, December 3, 1979, p. 10. See also Melinda Liu, "Wei and the Fifth Mod­ ernization," Far Eastern Economic Review, November 2, 1979, pp. 22-23. 3. "Wei Jingsheng Sentenced," Beijing Review, Vol. 22, No. 43 (October 26, 1976), pp. 6-7. (263) 264 CoNTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

China's expanding economic reforms led to growing cultural, educational, and economic exchanges and cooperation with the West. Despite extensive restrictions, Western political ideas and concepts rapidly found their way to Chinese students and intellectuals. Calls for political reform were voiced loudly by the educated Chinese, but the Communist Party of China (CPC) and the government of the Peo­ ple's Republic of China (PRC) made little or no effort to develop pro­ grams for democratization to parallel the extensive economic changes. The growing unrest of Chinese students had become quite obvi­ ous by the mid-1980s. The first extensive Chinese student demonstra­ tions for democratization and other reforms took place in December, 1986. The growing movement eventually led to the dismissal of CPC General Secretary Hu Yaobang in January, 1987. Hu was dismissed for his liberal political views and sympathetic attitudes toward student demands and for his failure to halt student demonstrations.4 Subsequent to Hu's removal, Premier Zhao Ziyang, an advocate of extensive economic reforms and limited political changes, was ap­ pointed Acting CPC General Secretary. Zhao was confirmed as Gen­ eral Secretary and First Vice Chairman of the CPC Military Commission at the 13th CPC Congress held in October, 1987. The Congress also adopted limited political changes, which were essen­ tially administrative reforms rather than genuine political liberaliza­ tion. The only significant change approved by the Congress was the adoption of the separation of different functions of the CPC and the PRC government. s The failure of the Congress to adopt sweeping political reforms and the CPC's failure to implement even limited political changes fur­ ther disappointed and angered Chinese students and intellectuals. Since the beginning of 1988, the growing corruption, inefficiency, eco­ nomic difficulties, especially the worsening inflation, contributed fur­ ther to popular unrest and resentment. Leading intellectuals, such as Fang Lizhi, a physicist dismissed as Vice President of the University of Science and Technology, and Liu Binyan, a well-known writer who

4. For background information on the events of 1986-1987, see Victor C. Falkenheim, "The Limits of Political Reform," Cu"ent History, September, 1987, pp. 261-265, 279-281; Stanley Rosen, "China in 1987: The Year of the Thirteenth Party Congress," Asian Survey, vol. 28, no. 1 (January, 1988), pp. 35-50. 5. For more details on the Congress, see Michael Oksenberg, "China's 13th Party Congress," Problems of Communism, November-December, 1987, pp. l-17. For a review of the 13th Central Committee, see Li Cheng and Lynn White, ''The Thirteenth Central Committee of the Chinese Communist Party," Asian Survey, vol. 28, no. 4 (April, 1988), pp. 24-34. Zhao Ziyang's key-note speech is published in Beijing Review, November 9-15, 1987, pp. 23-49. TIANANMEN AND ITS IMPACT 265

energetically exposed the dark side of China's political and economic worlds, began to speak out more loudly against the Communist au­ thorities, forcefully demanding genuine political change. 6 The democ­ racy movement was thus given a powerful push forward by these intellectuals as well as by the worsening conflicts between the Commu­ nist authorities and Chinese students. By early 1989, relations be­ tween the CPC authorities and Chinese students and intellectuals had become fairly tense, and confrontations seemed inevitable. 7 On April 15, 1989, Hu Yaobang, the deposed leader well known for his sympathy toward the young people and their call for demo­ cratic reforms, died of a seizure. His death soon set off a series of student demonstrations in the capital and other cities, including Shanghai, Chengdu, and Wuhan. The students were clearly angered by the CPC's failure to positively address Hu's support for democratic reform. 8 Thus, the demonstrations snowballed in the weeks that fol­ lowed. The momentum of the movement was soon accelerated by the support of the citizens of Beijing and the negative official reactions. 9 As a prelude to China's 1989 student uprising, Hu's death on April 15 triggered weeks of massive protests in April and May when throngs of over one million people filled the streets of Beijing to pro­ test the growing official corruption and to demand democratization, a course with which Hu had been identified. The CPC refused to accept the original demands, put forth by representatives of the student 10 protesters , and imposed martial law in Beijing on May 20, 1989. Af­ ter seven escalating weeks, the protests came to a sudden end. In the early hours of June 4, the tanks of the People's Liberation Army (PLA) moved toward Tiananmen, Beijing's central square, and fired on the crowds, killing hundreds and wounding thousands to suppress the democracy movement. A shocking massacre had taken place in

6. On Fang Lizhi, see Orville Schell, "China's Andrei Sakharov," Monthly, May, 1988, pp. 35-52, and "An Act of Defiance," New York Times, April 16, 1989, pp. 27-30, 43. For a of Liu Binyan, see Winston L.Y. Yang, "Liu Binyan," Encyclopaedia Britannica 1987 Book of the Year, Chicago, 1987, p. 89. 7. For a discussion of the revolt of Chinese intellectuals against the CPC, see Perry Link, "The Chinese Intellectuals and the Revolt," New York Review of Books, June 29, 1989, pp. 38-41. 8. For a biography ofHu Yaobang, see Winston L.Y. Yang, "Hu Yaobang," Encyclo­ paedia Britannica 1982 Book of the Year, Chicago, 1982, pp. 78-79. 9. For information on Hu's life and the unrest stirred by his death, see Sheryl WuDunn, "Hu's Death is Stirring Unrest"; and Nicholas D. Kristof, "Hu Yaobang, Ex­ Party Chief in China, Dies at 73", New York Times, April 16, 1989, p. 38. 10. Robert Pear, "Diplomats Say China Is In Crisis it Could Have Been Averted," New York Times, May 21, 1989, p. 6. 266 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

Beijing. 11 The reasons for the crackdown are quite obvious. The aging Chi­ nese leaders, especially hardliners like Deng Xiaoping, despite their open-door policy and economic reform programs, did not intend to make fundamental political changes and rejected the Western demo­ cratic system as unsuitable for China. The growing student protests had posed serious challenges and threats to the CPC authorities. China's political stability, in the opinion of conservative elders, had been threatened by the democracy movement. 12 The crackdown was probably ordered by Deng with the support of his hardline colleagues, who had remained hopelessly out of touch with the democratic ideals of Chinese students and with the evident global trends toward greater democracy. The precise numbers of dead, wounded, those arrested, and those executed after June 4 remain unknown even today because the Chinese authorities have never released name lists and because official Chinese accounts have not been accepted at face value. Most Western report­ ers and sources stationed in Beijing estimate that several hundred were killed by the PLA troops, thousands were wounded, and many were arrested or executed. 13 Whatever the numbers may be 14, the global reaction was uniformly negative. It is now time to examine Tiananmen's impact, especially the consequences of the brutal suppression. THE POLITICAL IMPACT One of the greatest casualties of the crackdown is, of course, the

11. Since three articles on the student protests and the CPC's subsequent crackdown are included in this book, details of these events will not be discussed in this article. 12. Richard Bernstein, "Why the Crackdown?," New York Times, June 27, 1989, p. A6. 13. Estimates of the death toll range from 300 to as high as 5,000. See, for instance, Nicholas D. Kristof, "Artillery Firing in suburbs .. . ,"New York Times, June 7, 1989, p. AS. 14. The Western media has begun to review some of their reports, attempting to cor­ rect unsubstantiated rumors. See David M. Lampton, China and U.S.-China Relations in the Wake ofTiananmen, New York: National Committee on U.S.-China Relations, 1989, p. 9. It is now believed that many were killed or injured on the streets far away from Tiananmen, especially in and around Muxidi, where government tanks opened fire on the crowds of people who had attempted to block the movement of troops toward Tiananmen Square. Nicholas D. Kristof points out, for instance, that there was no massacre in Tiananmen Square although there were many killings elsewhere. See his article "How the Hardliners Won," New York Times Magazine, November 12, 1989, p. 71. Hence, the term "Tiananmen Massacre" is quite misleading. A more accurate term should be, therefore, "Beijing Massacre.'' TIANANMEN AND ITS IMPACT 267

fall of Zhao Ziyang, the refonn-minded CPC General Secretary who showed an unusual understanding of and sympathy for the student democracy movement, even though most of Zhao's supporters, such as Vice Premier , remain in power. During the intense debate and power struggle prior to the May 19 announcement of martial law (announced at a meeting at 10 pm May 19 and broadcast and imple­ mented May 20), Zhao had suffered a serious defeat because Deng Xiaoping, China's paramount leader, had thrown his support to the hardliners headed by Premier Li Peng and President Yang Shangkun. 15 Zhao was officially purged at the end of the Fourth Ple­ num of the 13th CPC Congress. A communique released on June 24, 1989, announced the dismissal of Zhao from all his posts in the CPC 16 "for supporting the tunnoil and splitting the Party" , even though he was allowed to retain his CPC membership. Zhao's downfall meant not only the loss of a top leader of the refonn-minded faction in China but also the setback of China's refonn and modernization programs. 17 The hardliners, such as Li Peng and Yang Shangkun, clearly gained the upper hand. Li retained his premi­ ership and membership in the all-powerful Standing Committee of the CPC Politburo. Yang was promoted to First Vice Chairman of the CPC Military Commission and his half-brother, Yang Baibing, was elevated to the job of the Commission's Secretary-General and ap­ pointed to the CPC Secretariat. 18 As a result, even the limited political refonns advocated by Zhao at the 13th CPC Congress in 1987 have failed to be implemented and received no mention at both the Fourth Plenum (in June, 1989) and the Fifth Plenum (in November, 1989) of the 13th CPC Congress. Zhao's fall has brought an effective end, at least for the foreseeable future, to China's political refonns, which was one of the fundamental demands of the student protesters. The economic development pro­ gram, adopted at the Fifth Plenum, stresses retrenchment, reorganiza­ tion, central planning, and the economic power of the Central Government. It makes no mention of new or old refonn programs

15. Nicholas D. Kristof provides a vivid, though not well substantiated, account of how Zhao was defeated by the hardline leaders in his article, "How the Hardliners Won," New York Times Magazine, Nov. 12, 1989, pp. 39-41, 66-71. 16. "Communique of the Fourth Plenary Session of the 13th CPC Central Commit­ tee," Beijing Review, vol. 32, no. 27, July 3-9, 1989, pp. 13-14. 17. For a discussion of Zhao's fall as a loss to China, see John Fincher, "Zhao's Fall, China's Loss," Foreign Policy, 16 (Fall, 1989), pp. 3-25. 18. Adi Ignatius, "China's Deng Quits His Last Post, Names Jiang Zemin as His Suc­ cessor," Wall Street Journal, Nov. 10, 1989, p. A5. 268 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES even though it repeatedly renders lip service to the slogan, "deepening of reforms," with little practical significance. 19 There is little doubt that economic reforms suffered serious setbacks. As for China's open-door policy, Chinese leaders have time and again stressed that it will continue, but cultural and educational ex­ changes and cooperation with the West have been noticeably cur­ tailed20 because of the Chinese policy of opposing Western "bourgeois liberalization." Yet, despite this, China's economic open-door policy continues because of its need for Western technology, equipment, and investment. Western economic sanctions, Chinese internal power struggle and turmoil, the decline of foreign loans and technology to and investment in China, and other relevant developments have also affected China's modernization drive. It is quite obvious that a decade of reform, initiated by Deng and implemented by Zhao and others, is now in shambles. The fall of Zhao Ziyang and the setbacks suffered by his reform programs led, in June, 1989, to the rise of Jiang Zemin, a technocrat and formerly the Shanghai CPC Secretary. Jiang apparently became Deng's chosen successor. He was first named CPC General Secretary to replace Zhao at the June, 1989 CPC meeting 21 and then Chairman of the CPC Military Commission at the Fifth Plenum to succeed Deng in Novem­ ber, 1989.22 Even though he now enjoys not only the full support of Deng but also holds two of the three most important posts (the third one being the Premiership currently held by Li Peng), Jiang remains very weak within the leadership for several reasons. First, as a techno­ crat, Jiang has no power base of his own and lacks strong factional support. Second, he has had neither military experience nor wide con­ nections within the PLA. Third, his two competitors, Premier Li Peng and President Yang Shangkun, enjoy the respective support of such conservative elders as Chen Yun and the military. Therefore, as long as Deng remains alive and healthy, Jiang will be secure in his position. After Deng passes from the scene, the real power struggle,

19. For a summary of the economic retrenchment program, see "Communique of the Fifth Plenary Session of the 13th CPC Central Committee," Beijing Review, vol. 32, no. 45, November 11-17, 1989, pp. 6-9. For comments on "deepening" of reforms and other ques­ tions, see Nicholas D. Kristof, "Beijing Hopes to Stamp Out the 6 'Evils'," New York Times, Nov. 26, 1989, p. A9. 20. Sheryl WuDunn, "China Weighs New Restrictions on Study Abroad," New York Times, Oct. 19, 1989, p. A13. In early 1990, however, China relaxed somewhat its restraint on cultural and educational exchanges with the West. 21. See supra note 16. 22. See supra note 19. T!ANANMEN AND ITS IMPACT 269

leadership split, and political crisis will inevitably begin. 23 The grad­ ual fall of Mao Zedong's chosen successor, Hua Guofeng, whose polit­ ical situation in the late 1970s is similar to Jiang's today, is a painful reminder vis-a-vis Jiang's political future and problems. What is even more worrisome is the potential impact of the mili­ tary, whose guns were employed to suppress the democracy move­ ment. After the deaths of Deng, now 86, and Yang Shangkun, now 82, no one will have sufficient power and authority to command the PLA, which has been plagued by factionalism. 24 The regional military commanders, along with provincial party and government leaders, may come to dominate China's political scene. Disunity and factional struggles, which Jiang, with his limited power base, will not be able to handle, may emerge. A divided China, tom by civilian or military factionalism, may come into existence after strongmen like Deng are gone.2s Long before the 1989 democracy movement, Deng had appar­ ently chosen Zhao as his successor. The crackdown led to the fall of Zhao and destroyed the possibility of an orderly succession.

THE ECONOMIC IMPACI' Before the 1989 disturbance, China, in a period of slightly over ten years, had propelled itself from the bland egalitarian poverty of Maoism to the new-found consumerism of refrigerators, washing ma­ chines, and color television sets, much envied by many Soviets and Eastern Europeans. During the past ten years, the average Chinese income has more than doubled. After a decade of impressive growth induced by Deng Xiaoping's market-oriented reforms, however, China found itself, in early 1988, confronted with such serious problems as an acute credit shortage, growing inflation, declining industrial pro-

23. The author is now working on an article on China's factionalism since 1977, which will be completed and published in early 1991. 24. For a discussion of the role of the PLA, see Nicholas D. Kristof, "Now the Peo­ ple's Army Has Few Friends, More Power,'' New York Times, Oct. 29, 1989, p. D2. See also China in Crisis: the Role of the Military, Surrey, England: Jane's Information Group, 1989. 25. Deng has made conflicting statements on his role after his resignation from the CPC Military Commission Chairmanship in November, 1989. See Sheryl WuDunn, "Deng Hints at Keeping a Large Role in China,'' New York Times, Nov. 11, 1989, p. 5; and Nicholas D. Kristof, "Deng, Retiring, Says He Won't Meddle in Politics," New York Times, Nov. 14, 1989, p. AS. It is unlikely that Deng will not wield his powerful influence while he remains healthy and clear-minded. See Nicholas D. Kristof, "Deng is Ex-Chair­ man But not Ex-Leader," New York Times, Nov. 12, 1989, p. D3; and Sheryl WuDunn, "Deng Warns Against Own Senility," New York Times, Nov. 12, 1989, p. A3. 270 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

ductivity and farm output, bottlenecks in transportation and energy, and severe inefficiency and corruption. The economic expectations of the Chinese, despite economic stagnation and official corruption, had risen substantially. All these factors contributed much to popular discontent. 26 Even though most of these economic problems had existed before the repression of the student democracy movement, the brutal crack­ down made China's economic difficulties much worse for several reasons. First, the disruptions caused by the protests, demonstrations, and suppressions had a negative impact on China's orderly economic de­ velopment. Second, the Chinese leadership was preoccupied with fac­ tional infighting and power struggles and failed to focus on the growing economic problems. Third, the cost of mobilizing troops and tanks and bringing them to Beijing added much to China's budget problems. Fourth, the economic sanctions imposed by Western na­ tions deprived China of some of the much-needed foreign exchange and loans, as well as Western technology. Fifth, the growing inflation, inefficiency, corruption, poor , and overheated economy all contributed, in large measure, to China's economic diffi­ culties. Finally, foreign investments in China plummeted because of the declining international confidence in China's political stability. China's economic difficulties are reflected on many fronts. First, China's industrial output after the crackdown registered a much slower growth rate and even a decline. 27 In fact, the September, 1989 drop was the first decline since China began economic reforms a dec­ ade ago. This is a clear sign of China's growing economic difficulties because as recently as early 1989, monthly output was rising at rates of 10 to 15 percent above the previous year. 28 Such an industrial slow­ down was caused, in part, by the retrenchment and austerity pro­ grams, the unrest of industrial workers, unusually tight credit, project cancellations, and restrictions on domestic investment, all of which have rendered industrial expansion and modernization extremely diffi­ cult, if not impossible.

26. Fox Butterfield, "China's Economy: Pushed and Pulled Toward the Edge," New York Times, June 25, 1989, pp. D1, DB. 27. Adi Ignatius, "New China Statistics Signal Long Period of Recession," Asian Wall Street Journal Weekly, Oct. 23, 1989, p. 2; and Sheryl WuDunn, "China's Industrial Out­ put Declined 2.1% in October,'' New York Times, Nov. 20, 1989, p. DlO. China's eco­ nomic difficulties continued into mid-1990. See Sheryl WuDunn, "Debt is Squeezing Hotels in China," New York Times, May 28, 1990, p. 29. 28. Ibid. TIANANMEN AND ITS IMPACT 271

Second, with the disruption of the April-June period of 1989, China's exports fell, which created balance of payment problems. In the first five months of 1989 alone, for instance, China's trade deficit reached $4.6 billion, more than five times the unbalance in the same period of 1988. 29 Third, the greatly reduced number of foreign tourists, as a result of the crackdown, has compounded China's foreign exchange shortage problems. 30 Western economic sanctions (most of which remain in­ tact even today even though the Bush Administration has renewed China's most favored nation status and allowed the World Bank to approve a $300 million loan to China) and their delayed consideration of new loans, including those adopted by the United States, Japan, the World Bank, and the Asian Development Bank, have created even more foreign exchange shortage problems for China.31 On November 9, 1989, Moody's Investors Service, Inc. downgraded China's long­ term credit rating from the favorable A3 to the medium grade Baa. 32 This rating has had a very negative impact on China's foreign borrow­ ing and foreign investments in China. Foreign bankers have become much more cautious in lending to China. It will also cost much more for China to borrow from foreign banks. China is about to begin re­ paying larger amounts of its $43 billion foreign debt, and the higher interest rates brought about by a downgraded credit rating will un­ doubtedly increase the difficulties of refinancing China's foreign loans. 33 Several international bank syndicates, such as the Schroder­ led syndicate, have already cancelled loans, agreed upon earlier, to China. 34 Fourth, local and provincial economic autonomy, especially in the southeastern coastal region, has enabled some provinces, cities and special economic zones to invest money abroad, which has created a large capital flight and intensified the credit shortage. 35 Fifth, China's cash and credit shortage worsened in late 1989.

29. See supra note 26. 30. Ibid. 31. Ibid. For the World Bank loan, see Clyde H. Farnsworth, "China Gets One Loan, but Another is Put Off," New fork Times, May 30, 1990, pp. D1, DS. For Bush's decision to renew China's most favored nation status, see R. W. Apple, "Bush Withholding Normal Trade Ties From the Soviets," New York Times, May 25, 1990, pp. A1, A12. 32. Sheryl WuDunn, "China's Credit Rating Downgraded by Moody's," New York Time, Nov. 10, 1989, p. D2. 33. Ibid. 34. Julia Leung and Adi Ignatius, "Schroders-Led Syndicate Cancels Loan to Shanghai Property Project," Asian Wall Street Journal Weekly, Oct. 23, 1989, p. 2. 35. See supra note 26. 272 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

Many workers were told by their employers that their take-home pay would be slashed by as much as two thirds for the coming one to four months, and they would be paid a new kind of three-year interest­ paying bond in place of the deductions. 36 This unprecedented move, which affects virtually the entire urban labor force, has revealed the seriousness of China's cash and credit shortage problems and will lead to more unrest of industrial workers, which, in turn, will likely cause more declines in industrial output. The central government also has cash problems in paying farmers for their crops and in paying off hold­ ers of a large number of treasury bonds that will become due in the coming months. Although the forced sale of bonds may provide tem­ porary relief for China's cash shortage, there seems to be no long-term solution, however, to the mounting crisis among state-owned factories and enterprises. 37 Sixth, the rising unemployment rate, estimated to range from 2 percent of the labor force to 8 percent, 38 has created more difficulties for China. Unemployed youths are believed to have played a major role in the spring, 1989 uprising, and there are few jobs available for them. 39 Finally, such existing problems as an inadequate transportation system, energy shortages, and poor quality controls have all com­ pounded China's economic development problems. 40 In coping with its economic difficulties, the Chinese government has adopted extensive austerity and retrenchment programs.41 The November 1989 CPC Central Committee meeting adopted a lis~ of 39 economic measures as part of the retrenchment program, most of which will likely be implemented.42 It is obvious that the CPC's em­ phasis has been placed on , central planning and central economic authority and power. These approaches are unlikely

36. Nicholas D. Kristof, "China Fears Strife During Hard Times," New York Times, October 8, 1989, p. AI. 37. Ibid., p. A22. 38. Ibid. 39. Ibid. 40. Ibid. 41. For a summary of these programs, see "Communique of the Fifth Plenary session of the 13th CPC Central Committee," Beijing Review, vol. 32, no. 45, Nov. 11-17, 1989, pp. 6-9. See also Nicholas D. Kristof, "Beijing Hopes to Stamp out the 6 'Evils'," New York Times, Nov. 26, 1989, p. A9. 42. Sheryl WuDunn, "Deng Warns Against Own Senility," New York Times, Nov. 19, 1989, p. A3. TIANANMEN AND ITS IMPACT 273

to solve China's present economic problems. 43 While the long-term effectiveness of the austerity and retrench­ ment programs, which began in 1988 with emphasis on consolidation rather than economic change or reform, and which will be maintained for at least two to three more years, remains to be seen, new statistics seem to signal a long period of recession. Despite the recent ease of inflation and a better 1989 grain harvest, 44 China registered the slowest growth rate in a decade according to an unusually frank report released by the official Statistical Bureau in September, 1989.45 The official statistics also indicate that retail sales were plummeting while consumer prices were still rising. 46 Some of these trends were also confirmed by later statistics.47 These disturbing developments prompted Chinese and foreign economists to predict a prolonged pe­ riod of stagnation characterized by low growth with continuing and even increased inflation. They are also concerned that a recession may be around the corner.48 The year 1990 may be characterized by flat or negative industrial growth, a widening budget deficit caused by further drains on the state treasury, severe hardships for urban workers, and growing unemployment.49 All these may enhance the potential for ur­ ban unrest, thus creating more political problems for the CPC. Even though not all these difficulties were caused by the 1989 student democracy movement or its subsequent suppression by the CPC authorities, the major political events of 1989 certainly have ren­ dered China's economic problems much worse. The present health and immediate future prospects of China's economy are grim indeed.

SETBACKS ON THE INTERNATIONAL FRONT The PRC has suffered serious setbacks on the international front as a result of the massacre in Beijing. Its relations with the West have been severely damaged and its pre-eminent position as the "sole legal

43. Nicholas D. Kristof, "The People's Republic at 40, at Odds with the People," New York Times, October 1, 1989, p. D7. 44. See supra note 36, p. A22. The 1989 grain crop may not be as good as originally expected. The latest official estimate is 400 million rather than 410 million metric tons. See Sheryl WuDunn, "In a Dry China, a Huge Grain Crop Is Not Enough," New York Times, Nov. 26, 1989, p. AS. 45. Adi Ignatius, "New China Statistics Signal Long Period of Recession", Asian Wall Street Journal Weekly, October 23, 1989, p. 2. 46. Ibid. 47. Sheryl WuDunn, "China's Industrial Output Declined 2.1% in October," New York Times, Nov. 20, 1989, p. D10. 48. See supra note 27. 49. Ibid. 274 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES government of China" has been repeatedly challenged with some suc­ cess by the Republic of China (ROC) on Taiwan. 50 Within hours after the June 4th crackdown, the Bush Adminis­ tration began to ponder steps against China to demonstrate American criticism of China's use of force to end the student democracy move­ ment and the U.S. outrage over the killing of student protesters in Beijing. 51 On June 4, 1989, the United States, Britain, France, West Germany, Italy, , Sweden, and the Netherlands all issued state­ ments deploring China's use of force. 52 One day later, President George Bush, spurning a total break in relations and other drastic ac­ tions, announced the following sanctions against China: 1. Suspension of all government-to-government sales and commercial export of weapons; 2. Suspension of visits between U.S. and Chinese mili­ tary leaders; 3. Sympathetic review of requests by Chinese students in the United States to extend their stay; 4. Offers of humanitarian and medical assistance, through the Red Cross, to those injured during the assault; and 5. A review of other aspects of bilateral relationship as events in China continue to unfold. 53 The European Commission, the executive body of the European Community, cancelled high-level talks with Chinese leaders, deploring the "brutal repression in Beijing."54 At the United Nations, Secretary General Javier Perez de Cuellar expressed his sadness over China's action even though the Charter requires the United Nations to refrain from intervening in matters essentially within the domestic jurisdic­ tion of member nations. ss Other Western nations, such as Belgium and Australia, also adopted some sanctions against China.

50. Taipei has been planning offensives to achieve breakthroughs on the diplomatic front since early 1988, soon after President Chiang Ching-kuo's death. Taiwan's recent diplomatic victories are not, of course, the direct result of China's military crackdown, but Taipei has taken full advantage of Beijing's troubles on the international front to hasten its diplomatic breakthroughs. 51. Thomas L. Friedman, "Administration Ponders Steps on China," New York Times, June 5, 1989, p. Al2. 52. Ibid. 53. Bernard Weinraub, "President Spurns Other Sanctions," New York Times, June 6, 1989, pp. AI, Al5. 54. Ibid., p. Al5. 55. Ibid. TIANANMEN AND ITS IMPACT 275

Japan, China's main foreign benefactor, though slow in its re­ sponse to the crackdown and unwilling to take immediate sanctions, finally took steps that cast doubt on the future of billions of dollars in aid projects generally deemed crucial to China's economic develop­ ment. The Japanese government announced, on June 7, 1989, the sus­ pension of economic development and cultural missions to Beijing in the coming weeks and case-by-case reviews of aid projects already un­ derway, especially those that might be affected by the upheaval.56 On June 27, 1989, leaders of the 12-nation European Economic Community, after a two-day summit, condemned "the brutal repres­ sion" taking place in China, called for an embargo on arms sales to China and other sanctions, and urged the World Bank to postpone new loans to Beijing to protest the crackdown. 57 At the 15th annual economic summit meeting in Paris in mid-July, leaders of the world's most powerful also condemned China for bloodily crush­ ing student-led protests with tanks and troops. 58 Even though most Asian countries have been generally restrained in their condemnations of China, Southeast Asian allies of the United States expressed, on July 7, 1989, their strong support for the China policy of the United States at the 1989 annual meeting of the Associa­ 9 tion of Southeast Asian Nations. 5 .On August 31, 1989, a United Nations panel, a subcommission of the United Nations Human Rights Commission, voted 15 to 9, by se­ cret ballot, to have the full commission examine the charge that China brutally suppressed the student pro-democracy movement in violation of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. Thus, China was placed on a list of countries accused of seriously violating their citi­ zens' human rights. The full commission will consider the charges at its annual meeting in 1990.60 Amnesty International, based in London, also issued a preliminary report to detail and criticize China's human rights violations since June 3, 1989.61 As summarized above, foreign and international reaction to the

56. Steven R. Weisman, "Japan, China's Main Foreign Benefactor, Puts Billions in Aid in Doubt," New York Times, June 7, 1989, p. AlO. 57. "Beijing Refuses to be Intimidated by West," Hong Kong Standard, June 30, 1989, p. 10. 58. R.W. Apple, "Leaders in Paris Argue Over China," New York Times, July 14, 1989, p. A6. 59. Steven Erlanger, "Asian Allies Back U.S. China Policy," New York Times, July 8, 1989, p. 3. 60. Paul Lewis, "UN Panel Puts China on List of Human Rights Defendants," New York Times, Sept. 1, 1989, p. AS. 61. Amnesty International, "People's Republic of China: Preliminary Findings on 276 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

Beijing crackdown has been fairly strong. Even though different coun­ tries have adopted different responses, nearly all Western nations, some developing countries, and even a few communist nations, such as Hungary, have criticized or condemned China in one way or another. Some of the sanctions adopted by Western nations remain intact even today. China has indeed suffered serious setbacks on the international front. It is obvious that the Chinese leadership decided to ignore the international outcry at the time of the crackdown in order to consoli­ date its internal political position. China, of course, has refused to be intimidated by the West and has insisted that as a sovereign nation, it has "the right to handle its internal aft'airs,"62 thus ignoring the fact that human rights are a universal concern and that China has signed the United Nations Universal Declaration of Human Rights. Never­ theless, Beijing, concerned with its diplomatic difficulties, has made great efforts to improve its international standing since July, 1989. Some changes have taken place. Japan, for instance, which has not been very consistent in its dealings with China, has gradually relaxed its restrictions on contact and exchanges with the PRC. The Foreign Ministers of Japan, the United States, France, and Great Britain did meet and talk with their Chinese counterpart, , in Paris at the end of July, 1989, and again in late September when they gathered to discuss the Cambodian and other issues at the United Nations an­ nual meeting in New York. No changes in their respective policies toward China were made, however. China has also attempted to im­ prove its relations with Communist countries63 and developing nations by high-level contacts or aid programs. Premier Li Peng's 1989 state visits to Pakistan, , and Bangladesh were designed to break Bei­ jing's diplomatic isolation. 64 The United States, for its part, has also made some efforts to im­ prove its relations with China. Washington, for instance, repeatedly attempted to negotiate with Beijing to find a solution to the question of Fang Lizhi, an astrophysicist and China's best-known dissident who, along with his wife Li Shuxian, took refuge in the United States Em-

Killings of Unarmed Civilians, Arbitrary Arrests and Summary Executions Since June 3, 1989," London, 1989. 62. See supra note 57. 63. China's relations with the Soviet Union and North Korea have significantly im­ proved. Growing protests and reforms in Eastern Europe have made it impossible for Bei­ jing to improve its relations with East European countries. 64. Li Peng's state visits to the three Asian nations were prominently reported in China's official organ, People's Daily (Overseas edition), Nov. 15, 1989, p. 1. TIANANMEN AND ITS IMPACT 277

bassy in Beijing after China labelled Fang a "traitor." On June 25, 1990, China allowed Fang and his wife to leave the American Em­ bassy in Beijing for London for "medical treatment," apparently after an agreement was reached by Fang, China and the United States.65 Despite Congressional criticism, the United States Government granted, in July, 1989, a waiver to Boeing to deliver four jetliners to China. 66 President Bush sent his National Security Advisor to Beijing, in July and again in December, 1989, to improve U.S.-Chinese relations. More recently he renewed China's most fa­ vored nation status against wide congressional opposition. Besides lifting martial law in Beijing and Tibet and the release of some dissi­ dents from jail, China has done very little to ease its policy of repression. 67 In late October and early November, 1989, former President Richard Nixon and former Secretary of State Henry Kissinger, respec­ tively, visited Beijing with the blessing of the Bush Administration. Apparently neither made breakthroughs in the rebuilding of Chinese­ American relations. Beijing obviously expected Washington to take the initiative,68 and Washington was not yet ready to make a major change in its policy toward China.69 Kissinger, noting that both coun­ tries had an interest in stability and peace, urged both Washington and Beijing to "take steps together to put relations onto a smooth path. " 70 While the Bush Administration has been reaffirming the wisdom of a "measured response" to China by insisting on the importance of "maintaining open lines of communication" despite the Beijing crack-

65. The Fang Lizhi question is summarized in Nicholas D. Kristof, "China Names a Culprit Behind Student Unrest," New York Times, June 10, 1989, p. 5. See also Thomas L. Friedman, "U.S. and Chinese Seek to Resolve Rift on Dissident," New York Times, July 8, 1989, pp. 1, 22. For a discussion of Fang's release, see Sheila Rule, "Chinese Dissident to Study in U.S. and to Speak Out," New York Times, July 14, 1990, p.5. 66. For a summary of the U.S. response to China's crackdown on the democracy movement, see James D. Seymour, The International Reaction to the 1989 Crackdown in China, New York: Columbia University East Asian Institute, 1990, pp. 11-14. 67. For China's release of 211 dissidents, see Nicholas Kristof, "China Announces Re­ lease From Jail of 211 Dissidents," New York Times, May 11, 1990, pp. AI, A7. For Bush's decision to renew China's most favored nation status see R. W. Apple, "Bush Hold­ ing Normal Trade Ties From the Soviets," New York Times, May 25, 1990, pp. AI, All. 68. Nicholas D. Kristof, "Better Relations Depend on the U.S., Deng Tells Nixon," New York Times, Nov. 1, 1989, p. AS. 69. Andrew Rosenthal, "Nixon Talks of China at White House Dinner," New York Times, Nov. 7, 1989, p. A13. 70. Sheryl WuDunn, "Kissinger, in Beijing, Seeks to Mend Fences," New York Times, Nov. 9, 1989, p. A19. 278 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES down,71 Congress has moved to impose more sanctions on China than those President Bush is willing to accept. In late November, 1989, Congress approved a package that imposes two years of sanctions, in­ cluding a suspension of trade assistance and an end to insurance for American companies doing business in China. It also freezes the ex­ port of satellites, helicopters and certain nuclear materials and compo­ nents72. President Bush did not sign the proposed bill into law. Congress wants more sanctions written into law in view of China's massive human rights violations, whereas the Administration does not want to jeopardize the common U.S.-Chinese strategic interests.73 Despite a slight improvement in China's international standing, Beijing's foreign relations remain in considerable trouble. The only bright spot is China's greatly improved relations with the Soviet Union as a result of the Soviet leader Mikhail Gorbachev's summit meeting with Chinese leaders in Beijing on May 15-17, 1989 and Premier Li Peng's visit to Moscow in May, 1990. The summit meetings led to the normalization and strengthening of Sino-Soviet relations after a 30- year rift. 74 The normalization has strengthened Beijing's position in the triangular relationship among China, the Soviet Union, and the United States. In the face of Western sanctions, moving closer to Moscow is now an official option for China but it is not a very realistic one. Conflict­ ing national interests still divide the two nations, and China is still very suspicious of the Soviet Union. The two Communist giants do not share similar views on political and economic reforms nor on how to respond to political unrest. Moreover, Moscow cannot provide Bei­ jing with the kind of investment funds and advanced technology that China needs for its modernization drive and that can be made avail­ able to China only by Japan, the United States and other Western countries. Moving closer to Moscow, therefore, is not a realistic op­ tion, and there are no indications that China has been moving in that direction. 75 In its modernization efforts, China still needs Western,

71. Steven Erlanger, "Asian Allies Back U.S. China Policy," New York Times, July 8, 1989, p. 3. 72. Sheryl WuDunn, "China at Congress Sanctions," New York Times, Nov. 10, 1989, p. A6. 73. Former U.S. Ambassador to China Winston Lord has suggested steps by China that might invite positive responses from Washington, including the lifting of martial law, termination of the ideological campaigns against foreign ideas, and better human rights protection. See his article, "China and America: Beyond the Big Chill," in this volume. 74. For a discussion of the 1989 Sino-Soviet summit, see Henry A. Kissinger, "Seeking a New Balance in Asia," Newsweek, May 22, 1989, p. 51. 75. For a discussion ofU.S.-China and China-U.S.S.R. relations, see Nicholas D. Kris- TIANANMEN AND ITS IMPACT 279

especially American, technology and investments very much despite better relations with the Soviets. After the crackdown, however, such Western technology and investment funds have become much less available to China. Besides setbacks in its relations with the West, China has also suffered setbacks in its competition with Taiwan on the diplomatic front. 76 Pursuing a policy of "sole recognition" until recently, Taiwan be­ gan a campaign, in late 1988, to overcome its diplomatic isolation by getting countries to switch their diplomatic recognition from Beijing to Taipei or to recognize both governments at the same time. Taipei's offensives have succeeded in establishing diplomatic relations, since July, 1989, with such developing countries as Grenada, Liberia, and Belize, all of which had recognized Beijing as the "sole legal govern­ ment of China." Taipei has apparently taken full advantage of China's diplomatic difficulties created by the crackdown to strengthen Tai­ wan's international standing. With its huge foreign trade surplus, enormous foreign exchange reserves, and acknowledged expertise in economic development based on the "Taiwan model," Taipei has been in a good position to offer economic aid to developing countries and replace China as a powerful champion for the causes of the Third World. Taiwan's recent moves have led China to conclude that Taipei has adopted a "more flexible policy" that would allow dual recogni­ tion of both Beijing and Taipei, thus creating a "two-China" or "one China and one Taiwan" situation. Such a strategy is designed to allow Taiwan to remain separate forever from the Mainland in the view of Beijing. China's sense of urgency is not merely due to its recent defeats on the diplomatic front but also to its fear of Taiwan's true intention on the question of re-unification. In unequivocal terms, Beijing has stated that "there is no flexibility to speak of" on the question of "one China" and the "unification of the motherland. " 77 Besides verbal attacks on Taipei, Beijing has suspended its rela- tof, "Relations with U.S. Seem Badly Hurt by Crushing Democracy Protests," New York Times, June 11, 1989, p. 16. 76. For a discussion of the recent confrontations between Beijing and Taipei on the diplomatic front, see Winston L.Y. Yang, "Diplomatic Dilemma May Prompt Drastic Move," Hong Kong Standard, Nov. 4, 1989, p. 8. 77. Sheryl WuDunn, "China Says Taiwan is 'Buying Hearts' Abroad", New York Times, Oct. 15, 1989, p. 10. 280 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES tions with Grenada, Liberia, and Belize to demonstrate its firm rejec­ tion of "dual recognition" by third countries. But the question remains: What else can or will Beijing do to punish Taipei besides the fierce verbal attacks? The following are thought to be steps likely to be taken by China against Taiwan: • Intensified actions to frustrate Taiwan's efforts to participate in certain international and regional organ­ izations; • Greater pressure on countries with which China has maintained diplomatic ties not to improve their relations or establish formal ties with Taipei; • Increased economic aid to Third World countries; and • Creating problems or difficulties in the people-to­ people exchanges between the two sides. 78 None of the above, however, are easy or effective options for China except efforts to prevent Taiwan from joining or returning to certain regional or world organizations, which has already been China's official policy. China's recent successful move to block Taipei's membership at the International Management Society and its decision not to consider Taiwan's membership application at the Gen­ eral Agreement on Tariff and Trade (GATT) until its acceptance of China as a member, are clear signs of Beijing's determination to fur­ ther isolate Taiwan internationally. China's recent economic difficulties and limited foreign exchange reserves have made it impossible for Beijing to offer more aid to devel­ oping countries. Pressure on countries with which China has main­ tained official relations will not be effective without extensive aid to match Taipei's substantial economic assistance plan. Moves designed to create difficulties in unofficial exchanges with Taiwan will greatly harm the improved relations between the two sides and damage prospects for more contacts and eventual re-unification. Thus, such moves clearly run counter to China's long-term interests. The only other option would be to create a. disturbance on the Taiwan Straits, which has enjoyed considerable peace and stability for many years. Such an action would create psychological pressure on Taiwan without the use of force. Taiwan's prosperity and growing economic strength have been maintained by many factors, including its people's confidence in the future of Taiwan. If such confidence

78. See supra note 76. TIANANMEN AND ITS IMPACT 281

were shaken by Beijing, more citizens would flee to foreign countries and investment in Taiwan would inevitably decline. Ultimately, Tai­ wan's foreign trade and prosperity would be affected. Such actions, if taken by Beijing, would force the United States, Japan, and other Western countries to condemn China, thus creating more diplomatic problems for Beijing. Such moves would also in­ crease Taiwan's determination to resist China's pressure and effort to move toward eventual re-unification with China. All these would, no doubt, harm China's long-term interests. Beijing's recent diplomatic setbacks in its confrontations with Taipei have thus placed China in a dilemma. Under Taipei's aggres­ sive diplomatic offensive, combined with huge aid projects, more de­ veloping countries may abandon China and establish formal ties with Taipei. Taipei, therefore, expects more diplomatic victories. There is not much China can do to effectively frustrate Taipei's diplomatic offensives. Beijing's diplomatic defeats by Taipei are not the direct result, of course, of the Chinese crackdown, but Taipei has taken full advantage of Beijing's weakened international position to hasten its diplomatic successes. Since late November, 1989, China has made some progress in im­ proving its foreign relations. Beijing has established diplomatic ties with Saudi Arabia, and Singapore. There are no indications that Western countries, especially the United States, will be ready to lift all their sanctions against China soon. The brutal suppression has had, indeed, a great impact on China's foreign relations. Beijing paid a heavy price in terms of foreign relations for the crackdown, even though it remains to be seen how enduring the negative effects will be.

IMPACI' ON HONG KONG, TAIWAN, AND OVERSEAS CHINESE The impact of the massacre in Beijing in June, 1989, on Hong Kong, Taiwan, and overseas Chinese has been so great that it is proba­ bly beyond the comprehension of the CPC leadership. The reaction of Chinese residing outside the Chinese mainland to the massacre was unusually strong. In Hong Kong, for instance, well over 10,000 peo­ ple gathered in Victoria Park on May 20, 1989, to support the Chinese student democracy movement.'9 On June 4, the residents of Hong Kong demonstrated in huge numbers to protest the massive killings in

79. Barbara Basler, "Hong Kong Turns Out in Protest Against Its Once and Future Ruler," New York Times, May 21, 1989, p. A18. 282 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

Beijing while revealing their deep shock and distress over the violent crackdown. 80 On one occasion in May, approximately one million people, roughly a sixth of the entire population of Hong Kong, partici­ pated in demonstrations to support the democracy movement in China.81 Some Hong Kong protesters even called for the postpone­ ment of the British-Chinese negotiations on the details of the return of Hong Kong to Chinese sovereignty. But on June 7, 1989, plans for a series of rallies to mourn the victims of Beijing's military suppression of June 4 were cancelled after a violent confrontation between the police force and a group believed to be provocateurs from China. The organizers of the pro-democracy movement, however, continued their call for a token strike, and many Hong Kong residents observed a moment of silence for the Beijing protesters killed on June 4. 82 After the student democracy movement began in China in April, 1989, Hong Kong residents, 98 percent of whom are ethnically Chinese, held rallies at first to express their hope and support for the democratic aspirations of Chinese students and then to show their anger and sorrow after the crackdown. They were afraid that the Chinese government, after the return of the British col­ ony to Chinese control in 1997, would, as in Beijing in 1989, suppress political and economic freedoms in Hong Kong. Thus, the British Foreign Secretary, Sir Geoffrey Howe, upon his arrival in Hong Kong on July 2, 1989, to restore the island's confi­ dence in its future but without concrete plans, was jeered by angry crowds. 83 The Hong Kong residents' fear of the approaching 1997 reversion of the territory to China was quite obvious. All these reveal the profound concern of Hong Kong residents over the future of the island as a result of China's brutal killings in Beijing. A deep fear of China and a sense of distrust, uncertainty, and desperation soon emerged in Hong Kong. China's confidence crisis has become more serious than ever in Hong Kong and a smooth tran­ sition from British rule to Chinese sovereignty seems unlikely. Fear about the 1997 reversion led 46,000 people, mostly profes­ sionals, to emigrate in 1988, and the number intending to leave has skyrocketed since the massacre in Beijing. In 1990, residents are emi-

80. Richard Bernstein, "Vast Hong Kong Crowd Protests Beijing's Action,'' New York Times, June 5, 1989, p. A12. 81. Ibid. 82. Barbara Basler, "Hong Kong Cancels Mourning Rallies," New York Times, June 8, 1989, p. A14. 83. Fox Butterfield, "British Foreign Secretary is Booed by Angry Crowds in Hong Kong,'' New York Times, July 3, 1989, p. A6. TIANANMEN AND ITS IMPACT 283 grating at the rate of over 1,000 a week, and the capital outflow soared 84 in 1989 to nearly $5 billion. · For those who are unable to leave, the CPC crackdown and China's confidence crisis sparked a new political :consciousness. Shaken and betrayed, Hong Kong residents demanded more guaran­ tees before 1997 and would like to speed up the timetable for Hong Kong's first direct elections, designed to insure some form of local de­ mocracy before 1997. 85 A stronger democratic system is needed, it is widely believed in Hong Kong, to protect the territory after the 1997 reversion to China. 86 There is not much Hong Kong can do, of course, to insure its own future, even though Chinese leaders, such as CPC General Secre­ tary Jiang Zemin, have repeatedly pledged, since the June 4 crack­ down, that the Chinese policy towards Hong Kong remains unchanged. 87 Chinese pressure on the Hong Kong government not to allow the territory to be used as a base for "subverting" Chinese has grown in recent months.88 Officials of the New China News Agency (NCNA) cited some of the measures that the Hong Kong government had taken to "restrain the anti-PRC subversive activities."89 Soon af­ terwards, the Hong Kong government indeed took the necessary steps, such as its refusal to allow certain members of the Chinese student democracy movement organizations to enter Hong Kong90 and to re­ strain anti-Chinese activities. All these steps have painfully revealed Hong Kong's sense of hopelessness and helplessness in the face of China's growing pressure and the approaching reversion to Chinese controP1 Hong Kong has indeed become, since the June 4 massacre in Beijing, a city frightened of its future and obsessed with one date­ July 1, 1997- and tom between those who can leave and the 60 per-

84. Ibid. See also Nicholas Kristof, "Foreign Passports Tell of a Desperate Hong Kong," New York Times, May 16, 1990, p. Al2. 85. Fox Butterfield, "Hong Kong Fears China's Hard Line,'· New York Times, June 18, 1989, p. A12. 86. Barbara Basler, "In Hong Kong, Black Signs to Denote Horror," New York Times, June 11, 1989, p. A17. 87. Tammy Tam, "Hong Kong Policy Stays Same, Says Jiang," Hong Kong Standard, June 29, 1989, p. 1. 88. Barbara Basler, "China Says Hong Kong Apologized in Dispute," New York Times, Oct. 25, 1989, p. AS. 89. Ibid. 90. See, for instance, a report published in the newspaper World Journal (New York), Nov. 10, 1989, p. 3. 91. Many reports on the tense relations between China and Hong Kong have been published. See, for instance, a report which appeared in the international edition of one of Taiwan's Chinese language newspapers, Central Daily News, October 27, 1989, p. 1. 284 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

cent or so who cannot afford to leave.92 The mood of grim despera­ tion, as pointed out by Margaret Scott, a long-time Hong Kong resident and observer, is a far cry from the euphoria that engulfed Hong Kong before June 4, when crowds of close to a million jammed the streets in support of China's democracy movement. 93 Hong Kong is thus trapped between a looming Chinese motherland which the Hong Kong residents cannot change or democraticize and the depart­ ing British colonial rulers who they feel are betraying them by refusing to allow most of the local Chinese to emigrate to Britain. 94 The choice for those unable to leave seems to be either to beg London for protec­ tion or to participate in movements designed to change the Chinese motherland. Both are impossible and unrealistic choices. The enormous erosion of confidence is very apparent in Hong Kong. London has been under added pressure to negotiate stronger safeguards for Hong Kong before the 1997 reversion and to allow more Hong Kong residents to enter Britain. Both are impossible tasks for Britain to accomplish. 9s The future of Hong Kong has thus be­ come much grimmer after the 1989 massacre in Beijing. As for the impact of Tiananmen on Taiwan, it is equally profound but less dramatic. Like the Chinese in Hong Kong, the Taiwan Chi­ nese also participated in massive demonstrations after the June 4 events in support of China's democracy movement, even though Taipei's official pronouncements remained very cautious. This caution is probably due to Beijing's allegation that Taiwan was involved in the democracy movement on the mainland. But there is very little that the Chinese in Taiwan, like those in the British colony, can do to influ­ ence developments on the mainland. In the immediate wake of the violent crackdown in Beijing, how­ ever, Taiwan established direct telecommunication links with the mainland96 in order to meet the growing demands of the people. Peo­ ple-to-people contacts and exchanges dropped sharply after June 4, 1989 and the number of Taiwan's tourists and those who visited the mainland for family reunions also decreased considerably. Taiwan's investment in China and the two-way trade declined as well, even

92. Margaret Scott, "Hong Kong on Borrowed Time," New York Times Magazine, October 22, 1989, p. 31. See also David Sanger, "As Hong Kong Elite Are Leaving, Japa­ nese Investors Are Moving In," New York Times, May 29, 1990, pp. AI, D6. 93. Ibid 94. Scott, "Hong Kong on Borrowed Time," supra note 92, p. 32. 95. David M. Lampton, supra note 14, p. 9. The author points out that Hong Kong's project investment in China was immediately slowed by the 1989 massacre. 96. Ibid. TIANANMEN AND ITS IMPACT 285

though no official statistical reports have been released. A gradual in­ crease in various economic fields has been registered, however, since late 1989. Those in Taiwan who advocated an eventual re-unification with China were of course shocked by the brutal killings in Beijing. Their aspirations and hopes were inevitably dashed by the CPC action. China's attempts to woo Taiwan back to "the fold of the motherland" have been significantly damaged by the Chinese crackdown, 97 even though considerable progress had been made in contacts and ex­ changes since 1987. The "mainland fever" on Taiwan largely disap­ peared after June 4, 1989. Beijing's violent actions have also made Taiwan more determined than ever to resist Chinese pressures to move toward re-unification. 98 The independence movement in Taiwan seems to have been strength­ ened by China's violent action. As discussed earlier, Taiwan has also taken advantage of China's weakened international position (created by the Chinese crackdown) by launching diplomatic offensives, which led to the establishment of official ties between Taipei and several developing countries, including Grenada, Liberia, and Belize. Beijing, in tum, suspended its relations with them in order to avoid the "dual recognition" situation and de­ nounced Taiwan for its "two China" or "one China and one Taiwan" policy. Rejecting Beijing's charges, Taiwan has since stepped up its efforts designed to expand its foreign relations. Thus, renewed tension on the diplomatic front has appeared in Beijing-Taipei relations since late 1989.99 There have been some casualties of the worsening relations caused by the massacre in Beijing and by the Taipei-Beijing diplomatic rivalry. Plans for allowing ships to travel directly between Taiwan and the mainland have been put aside, and direct transport is likely to be delayed. 100 Whatever the impact of the 1989 Chinese massacre on Taiwan may be, Beijing's goal of an eventual re-unification with Taiwan has now become more remote than ever. The brutal killings have also re­ inforced a growing sense of self-confidence in Taiwan in its own polit­ ical and economic system. 101 The widening gaps in various fields

97. Ibid. 98. Winston L.Y. Yang, supra note 76, p. 9.. 99. Ibid. 100. Nicholas D. Kristof, ''Taiwan Pulls in a Hand Extended to the Mainland," New York Times, August 20, 1989, p. D2. 101. Ibid. 286 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES between the two sides have made many in Taiwan more skeptical about reunification. They have become more distrustful of the CPC and skeptical of the prospects for political links. 102 The violent Chi­ nese actions in 1989 have widened considerably the differences and gaps between the two sides. As for the overseas Chinese, they were equally disturbed and an­ gered by Beijing's military crackdown. Shortly after June 4, 1989, overseas Chinese in many countries, especially those in the United States and Western Europe, organized huge rallies in support of the Chinese student democracy movement and to protest the violent ac­ tions of the government. For the first time since Deng Xiaoping began his modernization and reform drives in the late 1970's, overseas Chi- . nese were united in their condemnation of China's brutal killings. On May 20, 1989, for instance, thousands of Chinese marched on the Chi­ nese Embassy in Washington to support Beijing's student democracy movement.l03 Rallies were also held on June 10, 1989 in a number of American cities to support the pro-democracy movement and to pro­ test the brutal killings in Beijing. 104 In addition, overseas Chinese have contributed financially to funds established to assist the pro-de­ mocracy movement. Overseas Chinese have also strongly supported organizations formed by leaders of the democracy movement who fled to the West soon after the crackdown. Yan Jiaqi, Wuer Kaixi, Wan Runnan, Chen Yizhi and others formed, in Paris on September 24, 1989, the Federation for a Democratic China (FDC), which is dedicated to the promotion of democracy in China. The FDC aims at "safeguarding basic human rights, upholding social justice, promoting a private economy, and terminating the one-party dictatorship in China." 105 Large numbers of overseas Chinese in Europe, the United States, and elsewhere, have shown their support for the FDC and other pro-de­ mocracy organizations. Overseas Chinese residents and Chinese stu­ dents and intellectuals abroad seem to have formed a unified front in their struggle for democracy in China. 106 Support for the CPC regime has decreased drastically in the wake of the massacre in Beijing. After the oppression, the democracy movement has been carried

102. Ibid. 103. "Students March on Embassy in Washington," Star-Ledger, May 21, 1989, p. A32. 104. "Rallies Are Held Across U.S. to Back Protesters in China," New York Times, June 10, 1989, p. 7. Other reports appear on p. 5. 105. "The Federation for a Democratic China," Paris, 1989, p. 3. 106. For a brief report on the resistance movement after the crackdown, see Russell Watson and others, "Underground in China,'· Newsweek, July 10, 1989, p. 26. TIANANMEN AND ITS IMPACT 287

on by underground leaders in China and by overseas Chinese and ex­ iled Chinese intellectuals and students abroad. "The seeds of democ­ racy and freedom," as pointed out by Yan Jiaqi, Chairman of the FDC, "have been planted, and as long as there is an underground, the government will not be able to stamp all of them out." 107

FUTURE PROSPECTS As discussed above, the impact of the 1989 student democracy movement and the subsequent crackdown by the CPC authorities has been profound. China's political stability and orderly succession plans have been disrupted. The reform faction, headed by the purged for­ mer CPC General Secretary, Zhao Ziyang, has suffered a serious set­ back, if not a complete defeat. The new, divided leadership headed by Jiang Zemin is confronted with crises on many fronts and can hardly deal with them in any effective way despite Deng Xiaoping's personal support of Jiang, a newly emerged technocrat who has no power base of his own within either the CPC or the PLA. After the death of Deng, now 86, an inescapable crisis will begin. Deng's passing may lead to a party split and an intense power struggle. Today's policies, programs, and power alignments may very well wither. China's future has become more uncertain than ever. In fact, long before the 1989 student uprising, the CPC's power and authority had been eroding. The CPC has been further weakened by the brutal killings because public support for the CPC has signifi­ cantly declined. In fact, the CPC has become extremely unpopular with the masses. As a result of Tiananmen, China's economic reforms and mod­ ernization drive have suffered serious setbacks and political reforms have come to a virtual end. Today China still attempts to carry on normal cooperation with the West, but has greatly reduced its cultural and educational exchanges with Western nations. The scale of the open-door policy has obviously been significantly reduced. China's economic problems have escalated due to the democracy movement, the CPC's military suppression, and Western economic sanctions imposed after the crackdown. Beijing is now confronted with mounting economic difficulties on many fronts. On the international front, Beijing's setbacks are starkly appar­ ent. Western economic and diplomatic sanctions have driven China to an inevitable isolation. International support for China has declined sharply; it now comes mainly from small developing countries.

107. Ibid. 288 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

The crackdown has also reinforced China's confidence cnsts among the overseas Chinese and the Chinese in Hong Kong and Tai­ wan. The reaction of overseas Chinese and those in Hong Kong and Taiwan to China's brutal killings was uniformly negative. Overseas Chinese support for the CPC and PRC has declined sharply; large numbers of them have organized to oppose the CPC. China's problems in Hong Kong, especially its confidence crisis, have become even more serious as Hong Kong moves toward the 1997 reversion. The violent PLA actions in Beijing have greatly weakened the reunifi­ cation movement in Taiwan and reinforced Taiwan's resistance to more cooperation with Beijing. The prospects for the re-unification of China have now become more remote than ever. Even though the CPC authorities have successfully suppressed the student movement, the democracy drive is now being carried on by underground organizations. The effectiveness of this underground resistance movement can be gauged by its ability to help hundreds of the leaders of the democracy movement, such as Chai Ling in April, 1990, escape arrest or flee to the West. Thousands of Chinese students and intellectuals abroad have formed organizations to carry on the unfinished task of the 1989 student democracy movement. In due time, these underground and overseas movements could present a seri­ ous political challenge to the CPC and openly renew the democracy movement in China. Our discussion of Tiananmen's aftermath has shown its great im­ pact on many fronts. Having celebrated the 40th anniversary of the founding of the PRC on October 1, 1989, China is now confronted with grave political, economic, and other problems and crises. Even though martial law has been lifted, and a sense of stability has re­ turned, at least on the surface, the People's Republic, approaching 41, remains at great odds with the people. A decade of reform is now in shambles. Hundreds of Beijing University students marched, defying a huge display of police and security forces, around the campus, in the pre­ dawn hours of June 4, 1990, to mourn the student democracy protes­ ters killed precisely one year earlier. About 2000 students and faculty members roamed the campus from 11 p.m. to 2 a.m. Elsewhere Bei­ jing was generally peaceful, as the government displayed huge security forces in many parts of the capital. The police set up many roadblocks throughout the city and sealed off the entire university district to pre- TIANANMEN AND ITS IMPACT 289

vent demonstrations and protests. 108 Chinese authorities obviously tightened security and closed Tiananmen Square in an effort to head off any commemoration of last year's June 4th army attack on student protesters. 109 In Hong Kong, more than 100,000 people, most of them dressed in the mourning colors of white and black, participated on June 3, 1990 in a march to honor the pro-democracy protestors who were killed in the military crackdown in Beijing last June 4th. The huge crowd proves beyond doubt that the Chinese policy of trying to intimi­ date Hong Kong has failed. While China has made many promises to Hong Kong in view of the approaching 1997 transfer of the territory to Chinese control, few have faith in those pledges anymore. More than 1,000 educated, talented entrepreneurs and professionals are leav­ ing Hong Kong each week, and more local firms have moved their bases to foreign countries and are looking for investments outside Hong Kong. 110 The confidence crisis in Hong Kong has worsened one year after the military crackdown in Beijing. In New York, Washington, Boston, and many other cities in the world, demonstrations commemorating the first anniversary of the suppression of the democracy movement in China were held on June 3, 1990. 111 President Bush and Congressional leaders also criticized China. 112 On the economic front, business is in a deep slump for most for­ eign firms with offices in China on the first anniversary of the 1989 bloody suppression of the democracy movement. The hard times stem from China's austerity and economic retrenchment programs, curbs on imports and credits, and uncertainties in China's economic reforms and policies. The foreign business community in China has been filled with pessimism on China's trade. On the political front, the Chinese political system is widely re­ garded today as in a deadlock. Mixed signals show that the rival fac­ tions have only succeeded in blocking each other instead of initiating new policies. There is no clear sign of China's direction. All policy

108. Nicholas Kristof, "Hundreds March in a Protest at Beijing University," New York Times, June 4, 1990, p. A7. 109. "China Beefs up Security on Tiananmen Eve," (AP dispatch), Sunday Star-Ledger, June 3, 1990, Section 1, p. 2. 110. Barbara Basler, "Hong Kong Honors Beijing's Victims," New York Times, June 4, 1990, p. A7. 111. Ibid. 112. Susan F. Rasky, "Bush Nudges China on Anniversary of Crackdown," New York Times, June 5, 1990, p. A9. 290 CoNTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES and personnel changes seem to have been postponed to avoid the im­ pression of instability as China is still being remotely controlled by a "gang of elders." China's future is on hold with elders like Deng Xiaoping in power. 113 China's political uncertainty is clear. As for the Chinese people, a bitter memory has turned into disil­ lusionment and indifference. Passive resistance from a sullen popula­ tion has been apparent. 114 As widely reported, people do not seem to have any confidence in the CPC or the PRC government. us Nor do people believe in anything. The sense of emptiness and purposeless­ ness has become particularly acute since the 1989 crackdown. 116 As of mid-1990, China's future prospects remain grim indeed. 117

113. Sheryl WuDunn, "Pessimism on Chinese Trade," New York Times, June 4, 1990, pp. Dl, D6. 114. Nicholas Kristof, "China's Future on Hold With a 'Gang of Elders'," New York Times, June 3, 1990, p. 20. 115. Ibid. 116. Nicholas Kristof, "Marxism Died and Left a Big Hole in Their Lives," New York Times, May 18, 1990, p. A4. 117. Even though China announced the release of 211 of those arrested after the 1989 crackdown, China continued to make new arrests in May-June, 1990. At least two democ­ racy advocates, including Liu Qing, a leader of the Democracy Wall movement in 1978-79 who spent a decade of his life in prison for his political beliefs, were arrested on May 25, 1990. See Sheryl WuDunn, "2 China Dissidents Detained in May," New York Times, May 31, 1990, p. AS. Also, three prominent dissidents vanished on May 31, 1990 and were probably detained. See Nicholas Kristof, "Mystery in Beijing: the Vanishing Dissidents," New York Times, June 1, 1990, p. A5. All three reappeared later. For a very recent report on the ugly images of China's crackdown, see "The Death of Democracy," Newsweek, June 4, 1990, pp. 28-29. NOTES ON THE EDITORS AND CONTRIBUTORS

Winston L.Y. Yang, a Chinese-American scholar who received his Ph.D. in Chinese Studies from , is Professor and Chairman of the Department of Asian Studies, Seton Hall Univer­ sity, South Orange, N.J. An expert on contemporary China, Dr. Yang has published extensively on Chinese (mainland and Taiwan) affairs. His articles and reviews have appeared in China Quarterly, Journal of Asian Studies, Asian Affairs, Encyclopaedia Britannica, etc. His recent books include China's Reunification: Problems and Obstacles (Wash­ ington: HeldrefPublications, 1987) and The 1989 Chinese Democracy Movement (Hong Kong: Pai Shing Publishing Co., 1990). Marsha Wagner, who received her Ph.D. from the University of California at Berkeley in 1975, is on the East Asian Studies faculty of Columbia University and also serves as Director of Columbia's C.V. Starr East Asian Library. Her books include Wang Wei (Boston: Twayne Publishers, 1981) and Locus Boat: The Origins of Chinese Tz'u Poetry in T'ang Popular Culture (New York: Columbia Univer­ sity Press, 1984). In the mid-1980s she was Vice President of China Institute in America. Hungdah Chiu, who received his S.J.D. degree from the Harvard Law School, is Professor of Law at the School of Law of the Univer­ sity of Maryland. His many books include People's China and Inter­ national Law, 2 vols. (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1974), China: 70 Year After the 1911 Hsinhai Revolution (Charlottes­ ville, VA: University Press of Virginia, 1984), Criminal Justice in Post­ Mao China (Albany, NY: State University of New York Press, 1985) and The Future of Hong Kong: Toward 1997 and Beyond (Westport, Connecticut: Greenwood Press, 1987). Orville Schell is a journalist and freelance writer who has pub­ lished extensively on Chinese affairs and other topics in Atlantic Monthly, The New York Times Magazine, and other publications. His recent books include To Get Rich is Glorious-China in the Eighties (New York: Patheon, 1985) and Discos and Democracy-China in the Throes of Reform (New York: Patheon, 1988). Nicholas D. Kristof, Beijing Bureau Chief of The New York Times, has published many reports on China in the Times and The New York Times Magazine. He and his wife Sheryl WuDunn, also a New York Times correspondent in Beijing, won the 1989 Pulitzer Prize (291) 292 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES in International Reporting for their extensive, timely, and in-depth re­ ports on Tiananmen. David Aikman is a former chief of Time's Beijing Bureau. He joined the magazine as a correspondent in 1971 and is currently based in Washington. A specialist in Soviet and Chinese affairs and in Com­ munism generally, he has also been the magazine's bureau chief in Moscow, Jerusalem and Eastern Europe. Educated at Oxford Univer­ sity and the University of Washington, where he received a Ph.D. in Russian and Chinese history, he is the author of Pacific Rim: Area of Change, Area of Opportunity (Little, Brown, 1986) and the editor of Love China Today (Tyndale House, 1978). Russell Watson is a Senior Editor of Newsweek, specializing in foreign news. He has written many articles on China for Newsweek from reporting by Newsweek correspondents in Beijing and elsewhere. Sandra Burton is Time's Beijing Bureau Chief and former Hong Kong Bureau Chief. A graduate of , she joined Time as a secretary in 1964 and became a correspondent in 1970. She was awarded the Edward R. Murrow Fellowship of the Council on Foreign Relations in 1986. She is the author of Impossible Dream: the Marcoses, the Aquinos and the Unfinished Revolution (Warner Books, 1989). Harrison Salisbury, who received the 1955 Pulitzer Prize in Inter­ national Reporting for his in-depth reports on the Soviet Union, was a New York Times correspondent in Moscow and later became Time's foreign editor. He has published many books on China and the Soviet Union. John Fincher, who received his Ph.D. in Modem Chinese History from Harvard University, is on the East Asian Studies faculty of the Australian National University. Currently on Harvard's visiting faculty, he has published many books and articles on modem China. Stanley Rosen, who received his Ph.D. in Political Science from the University of California at Los Angeles, teaches political science at the University of Southern California. He is the author of Red Guard Factionalism and the Cultural Revolution in Guangzhou (Westview, 1982), the co-author of Survey Research in the People's Republic of China (USIA, 1987), and has co-edited On and the Chinese Legal System (Sharpe, 1985) and Policy Conflicts in Post­ Mao China (Sharpe, 1986). He edits the journal Chinese Education. His current projects include the study of youth, public opinion and social change in China. Winston Lord, who received his education from the Fletcher School of Law and Diplomacy, Tufts University, was a former Am- EDITORS AND CoNTRIBUTORS 293

bassador to China. He played an important role in assisting Richard Nixon and Henry Kissinger in their 1972 historic opening of China. Chu-yuan Cheng, who received his Ph.D. in Economics from Ge­ orgetown University, is President of Sun Yat-sen Institute in America and Professor of Economics at Ball State University. He has pub­ lished many books on China's economy, including China's Petroleum Industry (Praeger, 1976), China's Economic Development (Westview, 1981), Sun Yat-sun's Doctrine in the Modern World (Westview, 1989) and Behind the Tiananmen Massacre (Westview, 1990).

INDEX

A Adie, Kate, 97, 105, 108 Afghanistan, 236, 241, 242 Africa, 241, 243 Agence France Presse, 132 Aikman, David, 4, 81 All China Women's Federation, 68 American Broadcasting Corp. (ABC), 30, 82, 140 Amnesty International, 9f, 275, 275f Anderson, Donna, 134, 135 Andropov, Yuri, 148 Anhui, China, 7, 263 Anti-Bourgeois Liberalization Campaign, 49, 248, 268 Anti-Rightist Campaign, 231 Anti-spiritual Pollution Campaign (1983), 128 Apple, R. W., 271, 275f, 277f Arrest and Detention Act, (1979), 11f Asia, 243, 244, 257, 275 Asia Television Corp., Hong Kong, 107 Asian Development Bank, 189, 195, 271 Asian (1990), 151, 207 Associated Press (AP), 99 Association of Southeast Asian Nations, 242, 275 Australia, 26, 275 Australian National University, 4 Autonomous Students' Union of Beijing Universities, 82

B Babaoshan Revolutionary Cemetery, Beijing, 116 Baker, James III, 125 Ball State University, 5 Bangladesh, 276 Bao Tong, 175, 176, 181, 183 Baoding, China, 93 Baotu, 143 Barnett, Doak, If (295) 296 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

Bamsley, Pamela, 13 Basler, Barbara, 281f, 282f, 283f, 289f Bei Dao, 27, 47, 212 Beidaihe, China, 91, 163, 164, 165 Beijing, China, 1, 2, 3, 4, 7, 9, 11, 13, 18, 25, 27, 28, 29, 31, 33, 35, 42, 45, 48, 53, 54, 55, 56, 58, 61, 64, 67, 68, 70, 72, 73, 75, 76, 79, 81, 83, 84, 85, 86, 87, 88, 90, 91, 92, 93, 94, 95, 96, 97, 100, 102, 103, 105, 106, 107, 108, 115, 116, 117, 118, 119, 122, 125, 127, 128, 129, 135, 136, 137, 140, 144, 145, 148, 149, 150, 151, 152, 153, 154, 157, 158, 159, 160, 161, 162, 163, 166, 171, 172, 175, 176, 179, 181, 182, 183, 185, 186, 192, 194, 195, 197, 200, 201, 205, 219, 230, 231, 233, 235, 236, 237, 238, 239, 240, 241, 242, 243, 244, 245, 246, 247, 249, 250, 253, 255, 256, 259, 265, 266, 270, 273, 274f,275, 276, 276f, 277, 278, 279, 279f, 280, 281, 282, 283, 284, 285, 286, 287, 288, 289 Beijing Aeronautics Institute, 51 Beijing Astronomical Obervatory, 23 Beijing City Revolutionary Committee, 11 Beijing Communist Party Committee, 11, 46 Beijing Daily, 50, 214 Beijing Hospital, 172 Beijing Hotel, 83, 97, 101, 108, 112, 115, 117, 142, 166 Beijing Military Region, 92 Beijing Municipal Government, 49 Beijing Municipal Higher People's Court, 9, 11 Beijing Municipal Intermediate People's Court, 8, 11, 18 Beijing Normal University 45, 54f, 73, 82, 86, 113 Beijing Radio, 141 Beijing Railroad Station, 81 Beijing Spring, 156, 187, 192 Beijing Students' Federation, 52f, 56, 60, 61f, 69, 71 Beijing University, 4, 26, 42, 43, 43f, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 48f 49, 50, 5lf, 52, 52f, 54f, 55, 56, 57, 59, 59f, 62, 62f, 63, 64, 66, 70, 73, 74, 86, 118, 128, 133, 174, 205, 205f, 213, 225, 226, 288, Bejing University Hunger Strikers' Group, 66, 70 Beijing University Students' Solidarity Committee, 51 Beijing World Trade Center, 151 Beijing Zoo, 3, 7, 263 Beijingzhan Street, Beijing, 100 Beixinhua Street, Beijing, 116 Belize, 279, 280, 285 Berstein, Richard, 266f, 282f INDEX 297

Birch, Cyril, 64f Bo Yi, 64, 64f Boeing Aircraft Co., 277 Bolivia, 35 Boston, Mass., 289 Brazil, 41 Britain, 10, 274, 276, 284 British Broadcasting Corp (BBC), 78, 97, 105, 108, 158 Brookings Institution (Washington), 41 Burton, Sandra, 5, 59f Bush, George, 23, 24, 26, 28, 29, 30, 31, 122, 125, 133, 181, 229, 237, 245, 271, 271f, 274, 277, 277f, 278, 289 Butterfield, Fox, 3, 7f, 10f, 263f, 270f, 282f, 283f c Cable News Network (CNN), 117 Caccamo, Paul, 105 Cai Yuanpei, 227 Cambodia, 239, 241, 242, 276 Canada, 25 Cankao Xiaoxi (Reference News), 10 Canton, See Guangzhou Cao Siyuan, 180 Carter, Jimmy, 193 CCP, see The Communist Party of China(CPC) Centerville, Va., 118 Central America, 237, 241, 243 Central Art Academy, 72 Central Communist Party School, 68 Chai Ling, 64, 68, 71, 72, 73, 82, 84, 113, 288 Chairman Mao's Memorial Hall, 104 Chang, David Wen-Wei, 1f Chang Taiyu, 211f ChanganAvenue,Beijing, 83, 86,87, 88 89,90,94,95,96,97,98,99, 100, 101, 102, 103, 104, 106, 107, 110, 111, 112, 115, 116, 117, 118 Changchun, China, 105, 144 Changsha, China, 41 Chen Di, 72 Chen Pingyuan, 4 7 Chen Xitong, 47f, 84, 127, 152, 173, 176, 181 Chen Yizhi, 286 298 CoNTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

Chen, Yun, 124, 147, 172, 181, 193 Cheng, Chu-yuan, 5, 253, 255 Cheng, Joseph Y.S., 37 Cheng Ming, 146 Cheng, Peter P., 1f Chengdu, China, 93, 218, 265 Chi, Haotian, 92, 93, 94, 137 Chiang Ching-kuo, 274f Children's Hospital, Beijing, 108 China, Republic of, See Taiwan, Republic of China China Central Television (CCTV), 50, 67, 83,130,134,140,141 China Daily, 149 China International Trust & Investment Corp. (CITIC), 131 China 1989 Democracy Movement Archives, 47, 50, 54f, 57f, 62f Chinese Academy of Sciences, 23, 48 Chinese Academy of Social Sciences, 131 Chinese National Tourism Administaration, 256 Chinese Political Consultative Committee, 226 Chinese Red Cross, 118 Chinese University of Hong Kong, 37 Chinese Youth, 207, 210, 216, 224 Chinese Youth Daily, 207, 211, 223 Chinese Communist Youth League, see Chinese Youth League(CYL) Chinese Youth League (CYL), 206, 208, 209, 211, 223, 224 Chiu, Hungdah, 3, 7, Sf, 47f Chongqing, China, 219 Clough, Ralph N., lf Columbia Broadcasting Corp. (CBS), 30 Columbia University, 4 Committee for Scholarly Exchange with the People's Republic of China, 43f Commune System, 40, 42, 190, 198 Communist Party of China (CPC), 1, 2, 3, 4, 10, 19, 23, 24, 26, 28, 30, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 39, 40, 42, 43, 45, 46, 47f, 49, 51, 52, 54f, 55, 56, 58, 59, 59f, 65, 66, 68, 73, 77, 80, 81, 82, 86, 90, 138, 140, 147, 148, 150, 152, 153, 154, 159, 163, 166, 167, 168, 174, 175, 180, 184, 185, 187, 188, 189, 190, 191, 192, 193, 195, 196, 199, 200, 203, 204, 205, 206, 207, 208, 215, 216, 217, 225, 230, 232, 249, 254, 258, 264, 265, 265f, 266, 266f, 267, 268, 272, 273, 281, 283, 285, 286, 287' 288, 290 Communist Party of China, Central Committee, 14, 42, 90, 123, 129, 139, 148, 153, 206, 272 INDEX 299

Communist Party of China, Central Committee, Politbureau, 78, 92, 137, 171, 178, 179, 192, 194 Communist Party of China, Central Committee, Politbureau, Stand­ ing Committee, 43, 55, 149, 159, 173, 180, 181, 189, 192, 196, 224, 267 Communist Party of China, Central Military Commission, 92, 137, 146, 160, 161, 162, 167, 176, 191, 192, 193, 194, 264, 268, 269f Communist Party of China, Propaganda Dept., 90, 191, 194, 224 Communist Party of China, 13th Congress, 2f,193, 194, 264, 267 Connecticut, 4, 157 Coordinting Committee for Multilateral Export Controls, 247 Counter-Revolutionary Act (1951), 8, 10, llf Cui Sian, 44 Cultural Revolution, 4, 7, 39, 41, 49, 52, 64f, 81, 145, 146, 159, 161, 168, 173, 176, 185, 192, 194, 199, 203, 204, 206, 216, 225, 231, 234, 235

D Da Sha La Street, Beijing, 89 Dadi(Great Earth), 11 Dalai Lama, 250 Dalian, China, 141 Dallas Morning News, 103 Daqing, China, 48f, 260 Datong, China, 93 Datsun, 24 De-Maoization, 191 "Democracy Salons,", 44, 45, 46, 47, 47f, 59 Democracy University, 72, 98 Democracy Wall, 3, 7, 18, 27, 47, 187, 209, 248, 263 Democratic Party (U.S.), 39 Deng Liqun, 191 Deng Xiaoping, 1, 12, 14, 15, 16, 24, 26, 27, 28, 29, 33, 35, 39, 40, 41, 46, 47, 51, 55, 56, 68, 76, 91, 93, 122, 124, 125, 126, 127, 136, 137, 138, 139, 140, 144, 148, 150, 151, 152, 153, 155, 157, 159, 160, 161, 162, 163, 164, 165, 166, 167, 168, 171, 173, 174, 175, 176, 177, 178, 179, 181, 182, 183, 184, 186, 188, 189, 190, 191, 192, 193, 194, 195, 196, 199, 200, 201, 202, 210, 226, 227, 229, 230, 232, 234, 235, 242, 254, 257, 258, 266, 267, 268, 269, 269f, 286, 287, 287, 289 Dictatorship of the Proletariat,9, 12, 13, 15, 18, 19, 21, 54 Dongdan Street, Beijing, 100 300 CoNTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

Dongzhimen, Beijing, 95 Dongzhimenwai Street, Beijing, 94 Duke, Michael S., 58f

E East Asia, 188, 190, 201 Eastern Europe, 79, 186, 188, 202, 207, 234, 241, 276f Economic Structural Reform Research Institute, China, 257 Econimic, Technical and Social Development Center, China, 257 8341 Pegiment, 158 Elliott, Dorinda, 60f Emperor Hirohito, 28 Enlightenment Daily, SO Erlanger, Steven, 275f, 278f Eurocommunism, 21 Europe, 10, 233, 236, 246, 286 European Commission, 274 European Economic Community, 274, 275 Exploration (Tan-Shuo), 3, 7, 13, 18, 21, 263 F Faison, Seth, 54f Falkenheim, Victor C., 264f Fan Weizhong, 258 Fang Lizhi, 3, 23, 23f, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 30, 31, 46, 47, 47f, 48, 133, 141, 152, 227, 264, 265f, 276, 277, 277f Far Eastern Economic Review, 118 Farnsworth, Clyde H., 271 Fathers, Michael, 111 Federation for a Democratic China (FDC), 2, 156, 286, 287 Federation of Autonomous Students Unions of Beijing Universities and Colleges, 51, 52, 60, Feringer, Alexis, 117 Feuchtwang, Stephen, 1f Fiat, 149 15th Airborne Division, China 94 "Fifth Modernization", 18, 20, 47 Fifth of April Forum, 18 Fincher, John, 4, 185, 267f Fitzwater, Marlin, 31 Florcruz, Jaime A., 59f Forbidden City, Beijing, 105, 110, 115, 159, 168 INDEX 301

Four Cardinal Principles, 19, 54, 54f, 76, 147, 208, 215 Four Modernizations, 20, 27,263 40th Army, China, 93 France, 10, 131, 274, 276 French Revolation, 4 7, 210 Friedman, Milton, 152 Friedman, Thomas L., 274f, 277f Fu Manchu, 252 Furlan University, 213, 220 Fulbright Program, 239 Fuxingmen, Beijing, 105 Fuyou Street, Beijing, 87, 105

G Gang of Elders, 80, 138, 148, 289 Gang of Four, 16, 20, 22, 49, 159, 160, 163, 185, 192, 210, 252 Gao Wenyu, 18 Gao Xin, 73, 86 Garden City, New York, 105 Gate of Heavenly Peace, See Tiananmen General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade (GATT), 247, 280 Germany, Federal Republic of, 274 Glasnost, 42, 188, 200 Goddess of Democracy Statue, 72, 82, 97, 110, 121, 188 Gorbachev, Mikhails, 28, 41, 42, 62, 64, 79, 160, 161, 163, 176, 177, 188, 189, 190, 192, 202, 235, 236, 241, 278 Great Hall ofthe People, 29, 50, 51, 84, 86, 88, 89, 90, 92, 95, 96, 107, 111, 112, 113, 114 Great Wall, 39, 149, 168, 169 Great Wall Sheraton Hotel, 23, 24, 30 Grenada, 279, 280, 285 Griffin, Nick, 107, 111 Guandao, 43 Guangdong, China, 259 Guangzhou, 35, 204, 213, 217, 218, 219 Guangzhou Institute for Educational Research, 218, 219 Gulf War, 237

H Haidian District, Beijing, 54 Han Minzhu, 44f, 45f, 47f, 48f, 49f, 51f, 52f, 53f, 55f, 56f, 58f, 61f, 62f, 63f, 69f, 70f, 74f 302 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

Hangzhou, China, 219 Hangzhou University, 205 Harding, Harry, 41 Harpers and Queen, 13 Harvard University, 4 He Dongchang, 223 He Xin, 207 Hebei, China 92 Helms, Jesse, 125 Heshang, see River Elegy Hong Kong, 2, 9, 26, 37, 45, 48, 79, 82, 84, 86, 104, 107, 111, 130, 136, 139, 143, 146, 149, 151, 152, 155, 185, 186, 195, 197, 201, 211, 218, 225, 233, 234, 239, 246, 247, 256, 259, 281, 282, 283, 284, 287' 288, 289 Hong Xuezhi, 137 Horley, David, 25, 30 Hou Dejian, 73, 74f, 85, 86, 112, 114 Howe, Geoffrey, 282 Hu Qiaomu, 191 HuQili, 147,175,178 Hu Shi, 227 Hu Yaobang, 1, 48, 49, 50, 51, 54, 75, 78, 157, 158, 159, 164, 171, 172, 187' 192, 193, 194, 264, 265, 265f Hua Guofeng, 10, 16, 168, 269 Hua Sheng, 44f, 45f, 47f, 48f, 49f, 5lf, 52f, 53f, 55f, 56f, 58f, 61f, 62f, 63t 66t 69t 70f, 74f Huang Ziping, 47 Hukou, 144 Hukoubu, 143 Hunan, China, 168 Hunan Teachers' College, Changsha, 64f Hungary, 187 "Hunger Strike Manifesto," 73, 74, 74f Hurel, Pierre, 100, 101

I LF. Stone's Weekly, 196 Ignatius, Adi, 267, 270f, 27lf, 273f Illinois, University of, 226 Independent, 111 India, 236, 243 Indochina, 242 INDEX 303

Inner Mongolia, China, 93 Institute of Population Research, Beijing University, 35 International Management Society, 280 International Monetary Fund (IMF), 260 International Visitors Program (U.S.), 238 Internationale, 41, 113, 188 Iran, 236 Israel, 237 Italy, 274

J Japan, 186, 233, 236, 243, 255, 259, 271, 275, 276 Jiang Qing, 160, 216 Jiang Zemin, 2, 129, 148, 151, 155, 167, 168, 181, 189, 225, 227, 258, 268, 269, 283, 287 Jiangsu, China, 220 Jianguo Hotel, Beijing, 102 Jianguomenwai, Beijing, 96, 102, 131, 134 Jingxi Hotel, Beijing, 180

K Kahn, Joe, 103 Kang-Hua Co., 254 Kautskyism, 21 Kenan, George, 251 Kentucky Fried Chicken Restaurant, Beijing, 101, 106, 112 K.G.B., 148 Khmer Rouge, 236, 242 Khrushchev, Nikita, 190 Kissinger, Henry, 5, 277, 278f Korea, Democratic People's Republic of, 236, 239, 241, 242, 276 Korea, Republic of, 31, 40, 41, 55, 158, 195, 233, 236, 239, 241, 242 Korean War, 37 Kristof, Nicholas D., 2f, 3, 4, 33, 58f, 59, 59f, 71, 72, 171, 265f, 266f, 267t 268t 269t 273t 277t 278t 283t 285t 288t 290f Kunlun Hotel, Baijing, 24, 25 Kuo, Shirley, 189, 201

L Lampton, David M., 266f, 284f Landy, John, 100 Laurie, James, 140 304 CoNTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

Law, Willy Wo-Lap, 58f Lee Feigon, 52f, 64f Lee Kuan Yew, 257 Lee, T.D., 226, 227 Lee Teng-hui, 125, 201 Lee Tze-chung, 152 Lei Feng, 206, 210, 260, 261 Lei Xiding, 34 Leng, Shao-chuan, Sf Leninism, 21 Leung, Julia, 271f Lewis, Paul, 275f Leyton, Stuart, 64f Li Cheng, 264f Li Peng, 26, 29, 33, 35, SO, 55, 63, 68, 70, 77, 77f, 78, 81, 82, 89, 97, 103, 112, 122, 124, 125, 127, 134, 138, 146, 147, 148, 162, 164, 165, 167, 168, 173, 178, 179, 180, 181, 188, 193, 194, 195, 196, 197, 198, 200, 201, 226, 227, 255, 257, 258, 267, 268, 276, 276f, 278 Li Ruihuan, 189, 224 Li Shuxian, 23, 47, 133, 141, 277 Li Xiannian, 148, 173, 176, 181, 193 Li Zhibo, 139 Liberia, 279, 280, 285 Lin Biao, 185 Lin Jianhong, 221, 222, 223 Link, Perry, 24, 25, 30, 31, 133, 265f "Little Red Book", 52 Liu Binyan, 155, 156, 157, 264, 265f Liu, Melinda, 3, 7f Liu Qing, 27, 290f Liu, Shaoqi, 161 Liu Xiaobo, 73, 74, 86, 113 Liu, Zhengwei, 224 Liubukou, Beijing, 87 Lo, Carlos Wing-hung, llf, 12f London, 23f, 108, 275, 277, 284 Long March, 138, 154, 157, 161, 189, 192, 235 Lord Acton, 39 Lord, Bette Bao, 29 Lord, Winston, 5, 29, 229, 278f Lu Xun, 184, 227 INDEX 305

M Macao, 130, 195, 225 "Mandate of Heaven", 39 Mao Xiangdong, 103 Mao Zedong, 1, 14, 15, 16, 21, 38, 39, 49, 52, 54, 64, 64f, 81, 82, 88, 91, 121, 160, 163, 164, 165, 167, 190, 192, 195, 197, 204, 206, 208, 215, 258, 261, 269 Maoism, 34, 38, 44, 202, 269 Mapai ("Mahjong Faction"), 44 Martial Law, 1, 33, 40, 63, 68, 70, 71, 77, 78, 81, 82, 84, 91, 92, 94, 95, 96, 109, 112, 123, 124, 128, 129, 135, 146, 150, 162, 180, 181, 183, 188, 190, 194, 201, 232, 239, 265, 267, 277 Marxism, 21, 39, 208, 213, 215, 224, 242 Marxism-Leninism-Mao Zedong Thought, 18, 19, 20, 54f, 130, 208 Maryland, University of, 3 . May Fourth Movement, 26, 27, 44, 45, 47, 52, 60, 61, 210 Middle East, 241, 243 Military Museum of the Chinese People's Revolution, 90 Ming Pao, 136 Ministry of Foreign Affairs, China, 132, 180, 193 Ministry of Justice, China, 28 Ministry of National Defense, China, 87, 159 Ministry of Public Security, China, 87, 112 Ministry of Radio, Film & Television, China, 90 Ministry of State Security, China, 99 Minzu Hotel, Beijing, 99, 117 Mongolia, 79, 236 Monument to the People's Heroes, 47, 64, 82, 85, 97, 101 Moody's Investors Service, 271 Moscow, USSR, 148, 235, 236, 237, 238, 241, 242, 278 Mueller, Michael, 108 Museum of the Chinese Revolution, 104 Muxidi, Beijing, China, 83, 100, 266f Muxidi Bridge, Beijing, 98, 101

N Nambia, 237 Nanjing, China, 55 Nanyuan Military Airfield, Beijing, 93, 94, 101 Nathan, Andrew J., 76f, 77f National Broadcasting Corp. (NBC), 30 306 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

National People's Congress(NPC), 11, 27, 47, 47f, 49, 64f, 72, 82, 139, 152, 180, 187, 188, 195, 239 Nepal, 276 Netherlands, 274 New China News Agency (NCNA), 108, 154, 283 New Delhi, India, 100 "New May Fourth Manifesto", 43 New York, New York, 38, 140, 289 New York Times, 3, 4 Newsweek, 4 Nexus, 106 The Nineties, 132 Nixon, Bob, 70f, 74f Nixon, Richard, 5, 230, 231, 277 Nobel Prize in Peace, 156 Northern Ireland, 67

0 Oksenberg, Michael, 126, 264f Oregon, U.S.A., 99 p The Pacific, 39, 249 Pakistan, 243, 276 Palace Hotel, 105 Paris, 2, 275, 286 Paris-Match, 100 Peace Corps, 249 Pear, Robert, 265f Peking, see Beijing Peking University, See Beijing University Pell, Claiborne, 126 Peng, Zhen, 124, 139 Peopel's Armed Police, 24, 87, 88, 90 People's Daily, 35, 41, 50, 55, 56, 58, 59, 61, 65, 69, 76, 78, 138, 141, 144, 151, 157, 159, 160, 174, 175, 176, 177, 187, 194, 195, 196, 212 People's Liberation Army (PLA).7,33, 58, 70, 77,81, 83, 84, 85. 86, 87, 89, 92, 93, 94, 95, 97, 98, 99, 102, 103, 105, 106, 109, 110, 111, 112, 116, 117, 121, 122, 132, 138, 149, 151, 158, 160, 166, 167, 168, 171, 173, 179, 183, 185, 188, 191, 194, 196, 198, 200, 232, 233, 236, 243, 245, 255, 256, 265, 266, 268, 269, 269f, 287, 288 INDEX 307

People's University, 45, 49, 49f, 51, 52f, 53f, 56 People's University Students' Autonomous Union, 62f Perestroika 42 Perez de Cuellar, Jauier, 274 Persian Gulf, 241, 243 Peugeot SA, 256 The , 188 Poland, 140, 173 "Polish Syndrome," 186, 187 Political Science and Law College of China, see University of Political Science and Law Political Science Institute, Chinese Academy of Social Sciences, 97 Pomfret, John, 99 Presnick, Mitch, 118 Protect Tiananmen Headquarters, 71, 72 Provisional Students' Federation of Capital Universities and Colleges, 51, 53, 53f, 58, 58f, 60 Public Security Bureau, Beijing, 11, 24, 30, 57, 85, 132, 141, 142, 158 Pyongyang, Korea, 173, 194, 242

Q Qian Linzhao, 48f Qian Qichen, 276 Qian Xuesen, 226, 227 Qianmen, Beijing, 96, 106 Qianmen Road, Beijing, 96, 116 Qiao Guanhua, 38 Qiao Shi, 122, 148, 174, 178, 180 Qijiayuan Foreign Compounds, Beijing, 102 Qin Jiwei, 125, 137 Qin Shi Huang Di, 38, 39 Qincheng No. 1 Prison, 7 Qing Dynasty, 37, 39 Qinghua University, 45, 51, 53, 56, 59, 64f, 142, 205, 225 Qinghua University Students Union, 56 Qu Yuan, 64 Queen Elizabeth, 168

R Radio Beijing, 118 Rasky, Susan F., 289f Reagan, Ronald, 28, 251 308 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

Red Guards, 7, 81, 212 River Elegy, 43, 169, 210, 217 Rosen, Stanley, 4, 203, 204f, 205f, 210f, 264f Rosenthal, Andrew, 277f Rui Xingwen, 175 Rule, Sheila, 23f, 277f Rural Development Research Center, China, 257 Russell, Bertrand, 213 s Salisbury, Harrison, 4, 157 Saudi Arabia, 236 Schell, Orville, 2, 23f, 47f, 265f Schweisberg, David, 113, 118 Scott, John, 13 Scott, Margaret, 284, 284f Scowcroft, Brent, 277 Seoul, Korea, 201 Seton Hall University, 5 17th Army, China, 94 70th Army, China, 93 Seymour, James, 277f Shanghai, China, 29, 35, 36, 41, 55, 56, 139, 144, 148, 181, 189, 196, 215, 255, 265, 268 Shanghai Normal Institute, 213 Shangri-La Hotel, 30 Shekou, 211 Shekou Storm, 212, 216 Shen Tong, 62 Shenyang, China, 72, 93, 103 Shenzhen Special Economic Zone, 211, 219, 260 Shijiazhung, China 92 Shouyang Mountain, 64f Shu Qi, 64, 64f Sichuan, China, 41, 93 Sihanouk, Prince Norodom, 242 Simmie, Scott, 70f, 74f Singapore, 195, 257 Sino-British Joint Agreement on Hong Kong, 152 Sino-Soviet Summit Meeting (1989), 141, 176, 235 Sino-Vietnamese War (1979), 10, 18, 19 16th Army China, 94 INDEX 309

65th Army, China, 93, 94 67th Army, China, 89 69th Army, China, 94 Solarz, Stephen, 125 South Africa, 67 South Asia, 242 Southeast Asia, 275 Southerland, Daniel, 62f Southern California, University of, 4 Soviet Republic of Georgia, 173 Soviet Union, 21, 28, 31, 41, 42, 62, 187, 225, 234, 236, 241, 242, 249, 276f, 278, 279 Spain, 274 Special Economic Zones(SEZ), 130, 148, 210, 217, 219 "Spiritual Pollution", 49 Stalin Automobile Factory(Moscow), 148 Stalin, Joseph, 160 Stalinism, 21 State Council, China, 129, 153, 187, 192, 193, 257 State Education Commission, China, 207, 223, 226 State Family Planning Commission, China, 35 State Planning Commission, China, 258 State Statistical Bureau, China, 273 Statue of Liberty, New York, 188 Stone Computer Corp., 73 Students' Dialogue Delegation of Beijing Universities, 62, 62f, 63 Su Shaozhi, 130, 216, 216f Su Wei, 48f Su Xiaokang, 43, 210 Sun Jiaming, 221, 222, 223 Sun Yat-sen, 226, 227 Sun Yong, 33 Supreme People's Court, China, 9 Supreme People's Procuratorate, China, 145 Sweden, 274

T Taipei, Taiwan,201, 274f, 279, 279f, 280, 281, 284 Taiwan, Republic of China, 2, 5, 9, 36, 37, 40, 73, 85, 125, 136, 185, 189, 195, 197, 201, 225, 233, 239, 245, 246, 274, 274f, 279, 279f, 280, 281, 284, 285, 287, 288 Taiwan Straits, 36, 244, 245 310 CONTEMPORARY ASIAN STUDIES SERIES

Tam, Tammy, 283f Tan Zuenling, 11 Tanaka Kakuei, 230 Tang Shaoming, 224 Tang Yijie, 47 Tan-shuo, see Exploration (Tan-shuo) Tawney, R. H., 234 Temple of Heaven, Beijing, 101 Temple of Heaven Park, Beijing, 94 Texas, 25 Third World, 279, 280 38th Army, China, 56, 93, 94 39th Army, China, 103 Thompson, Mark V., 47f, 50f, 56f, 63f, 70f, 77f Thurston, Anne T., 256f Tian Jiyun, 267 Tiananmen Square, 1, 2, 5, 33, 44f, 49, 50, 52, 52f, 55, 56, 57, 61, 62, 64, 67, 68, 69, 70, 71, 72, 73, 74, 79, 81, 82, 83, 85, 86, 89, 90, 91, 92, 93, 94, 95, 96, 97, 98, 100, 101, 102, 103, 104, 105, 106, 107, 108, 109, 110, 102, 103, 104, 105, 106, 107, 108, 109, 110, 111, 112, 113, 114, 115, 116, 117, 118, 119, 121, 122, 124, 127, 128, 130, 131, 135, 140, 146, 157, 158, 160, 161, 162, 165, 166, 167, 168, 169, 171, 174, 177, 119, 182, 183, 186, 187, 189, 191, 199, 200, 202, 206, 207, 208, 210, 216, 253, 256, 259, 265, 266, 266f, 284, 287, 288 Tiananmen Incident (1976), 13, 16, 49, 50 Tianjin, 189 Tibet, 29, 239, 249, 240, 277 Time, 4 TOPEL, 212 Tokyo, Japan, 28, 140, 236, 243 Tongxian County, Hebei, China, 83 Tufts University, 117 27th Army, 90, 94, 97, 98, 101, 106, 107, 109, 110, Ill, 128, 131, 135, 136, 191 28th Army, 93, 94 u Uerkesh Daolet, See Wuer Kaixi Underdeveloped Countries, 36 Union Medical College, 90, 107, 108 United Nations, 38, 237, 243, 274, 275, 276 INDEX 311

United Nations Human Rights Commission, 275 United Press International (UPI), 100, 113, 118 United States, 1, 5, 24, 25, 26, 28, 29, 30, 31, 38, 41, 44, 64, 91, 145, 180, 201, 237, 238, 240 United States Ambassador to China, 5, 25, 29, 31 United States Congress, 125, 240, 249, 278, 289 United States Department of State, 128, 134 United States Embassy (Beijing), 23, 23f, 25, 133, 134, 141, 277 United States Information Agency, 238 United States Laison Office, (Beijing), 28 United States Senate, 126 Universal Declaration of Human Rights, 10, 12, 275, 276 University of Political Science and Law, 60, 62, 118, 128 University of Science and Technology, 23, 264 v Vadivostok, USSR, 201 Victoria Park, Hong Kong, 281 Vietnam, 18, 21, 94, 236, 242 Voice of America, 78, 153, 158, 239 w Wagner, Marsha, 4, 43 Walesas, Lech, 140 Wan Li, 180, 181 Wan Runnan, 286 , 151 Wang Chaohua, 69, 73 Wang Dan, 43, 44, 45, 59, 61, 63, 64, 69, 71, 73, 74, 76, 77f, 85 Wang Fang, 153 Wang Hai, 94 Wang Jinxi, 206 Wang, Xiaoyi, 11 Wang Xizhe, 27 Wang, Yizhou, 210, 216 Wang, Zhen, 43, 139 Wangfujing Street, Beijing, 115, 117 Washington, D.C., 4, 29, 31, 96, 235, 236, 237, 238, 241, 242, 243, 244, 245, 246, 276, 277, 278f, 289 Watson, Burton, 64f Watson, Russell, 4 Watson, Sandra, 4 312 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

Wei Jingsheng, 3, 7, 7f, 9, 10, 11, llf, 12, 13, 18, 19, 27, 47, 47f, 187, 263 Wei Wei Po, 152 Weinraub, Bernard, 274 Weisman, Steven, 275f Western Europe, 259, 286 Western Hills, Beijing, 92, 97, 116 White, Lynn, 264f White House, 30 Wong, Jean, 24 World Bank, 255, 271, 271f, 275 World Economic Herald, 196 Wu Hanzhi, 254f Wu Jialang, 40 Wu Muran, 52f Wu, Yuan-Li, 3 Wu Zuxiang, 47 WuDunn, Sheryl, 265f, 268f, 269f, 270f, 271f, 273f, 277f, 278f, 279f, 290f Wuer Kaixi, 43, 44f, 59, 60, 61, 64, 69, 70, 71, 73, 77, 142, 156, 286 Wuhan, China, 55, 91, 162, 181, 265 Wuhan Military Region, China, 94 Wuhan University, 212, 213

X Xian China, 41, 55, 218, 219 Xiang Xiaoji, 62, 73 Xiao Yang, 124 Xidan, Beijing, 88, 90, 106 Xidan Wall, Beijing, 263 Xie Hua, 9f Xing Zhong, 9f Xinhua News Agency, See New China News Agency Xinhuamen, Beijing, 49 Xinjiang, China, 36 Xu Wenli, 27 Xu, Xin, 137 y Yan Jiaqi, 35, 97, 102, 156, 177, 210, 216, 286, 287 Yan Mingfu, 69, 174, 177, 179, Yanan, China, 161 INDEX 313

Yang Baibing, 92, 137 Yang Guohua, 204f Yang Jiahua, 94 Yang Shangkun, 25, 26, 29, 55, 70, 96, 94, 124, 136, 137, 146, 149, 155, 160, 161, 163, 164, 167, 173, 179, 180, 189, 192, 193, 194, 195, 200, 267, 268, 269 Yang, Winston L.Y., 1, 5, 263, 265f, 279f, 285f Yangtze River, 42 Yanjing Hotel, 83 Yao Yilin, 148, 178, 181, 257 Yao Yongzhan, 139 Ye Jun, 214, 215 Yellow River, 168, 169 Yellow Sea, 91 Yi Mu, 47f, 50f, 56f, 63f, 70f, 77f Yongdingmen Bridge, Beijing, 83 Yongdingmen Street, Beijing, 94, 97 Yuan Mu, 60, 134, 153, 225 Yuan Zhiming, 210 Yue Daiyun, 47 Yuyuantan Park, Beijing, 98 z Zhang Dainian, 4 7 Zhang Gong, 116 Zhang Haidi,. 210 Zhang Hanzhi, 37, 38 Zhang Jianzhong, 145 Zhang Weiying, 210, 21 Of Zhao Ziyang, 2, 4, 29, 43, 55, 61, 92, 98, 122, 124, 125, 127, 129, 137, 138, 139, 146, 147, 152, 153, 156, 159, 160, 161, 162, 164, 165, 172, 173, 175, 176, 177, 178, 179, 180, 181, 183, 184, 185, 187, 189, 190, 192, 193, 194, 195, 196, 197, 198, 199, 200, 201, 202, 231, 257, 259, 264, 267, 267f, 268, 269, 287 Zheng Ming, see Cheng Ming, Zheng Tuobin, 149 Zhongnanhai, 23 Zhongnanhai, 49, 84, 87, 88, 90, 95, 105, 123, 137, 155, 158, 159, 169, 171, 173, 174, 176, 178, 180 Zhongshan University 213 Zhou Duo 173 , 64f 314 CONTEMPORARY AsiAN STUDIES SERIES

Zhou Enlai, 49, 161, 168, 174, 196, 226, 227 ZhouFengsuo, 142 Zhou Tuo, 86 Zhou Y ongjun, 60 Zhou Y ongyun, 73 Zhu Born, 210 Zhu Ziqing, 64f